Alone in the Shadows
by broadwaygirl818
Summary: Christine is a college student whose father hardly acknowledges her. Erik is a recluse who is content to live in darkness. Two completely different indviduals... yet, they are unexpectedly brought together by chaotic and dangerous circumstances.
1. Prologue: Life and Death

**Prologue**

**I decided to use one of my one-shots as the prologue of this story. After writing chapter seven, I thought this would be the perfect beginning. Plus, I wanted to give you the chance to see into Erik's mind and feel what he's feeling. Please review! :) **

You are my life.

From the moment I first heard you sing, I knew we were destined to spend eternity together. When I heard your voice, everything else faded until you became all that matters to me.

You became my reason for living, my dear. For the first time in my miserable life, I felt as though I had a reason for existing.

We were born to be together.

That foolish boy is not strong enough for you, darling. He is not strong enough to protect you from the world. You… you, my love, are a blooming, fragrant rose in a desolate land. Yet, eventually this world would destroy you. So, I took you for my own, in order to preserve you.

You are everything that is beautiful, pure, and sweet. Your voice, your mere presence, is a wonderful elixir to a dead man. I was dead until I found you, darling. I was Death in human form. You, however, are the very essence of Life.

Some might say that Life and Death cannot exist together. That is not true! Life will heal Death, and Life will overcome Darkness.

This, my dear, is why I cannot let you go. This is why you must never leave me. You are like a horribly sweet, addictive drug to me; without you, I would die.

I love you so much…

Please save me…

May Life conquer Death.


	2. Attention

**I'm SUPER-excited about this story... I think you'll be surprised by some aspects of it, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review, please! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Phantom of the Opera. **_**I wish I owned Erik, but if I did, I wouldn't be writing this story.**

**Chapter One: Attention**

"The summers die, one by one! How soon they fly on and on!"

Christine Daaë winced. Although her father was on the second level of the house, she could still hear his powerful voice. Her fingers left the piano keys as her heart ached in a way that she instantly recognized. Wistfully, she sang along softly, never noticing when the duet became a solo. Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her.

"You're flat."

She jumped. "I… I'm sorry," she apologized quietly.

Her father nodded. "I have a music lesson with Carlotta, so I'm about to leave." Carlotta was Mr. Daaë's most accomplished student. "I have to grab some groceries afterwards, so I'll be gone for a few hours. Okay?"

What could she possibly say? Like her father would really stay home if she said that she didn't want him to leave. So, she gave him the only answer that was logical.

"Okay, see you later." With that, her father was gone.

She sighed. Silence seemed to be her constant and unwelcome companion. For an insecure nineteen-year-old, solitude can be a terrifying thing, and Christine was no exception. Silence was the only that ever gave her attention since her father didn't seem to care of she was present.

Christine bit her lower lip, struggling to fight back angry tears. It was just so _unfair!_of all of the voices her father had trained, he never paid any kind of special attention to the voice of his own daughter. Yes, he had taught her how to sing, but only because it would be a bad reflection of his teaching abilities to have a tone-deaf daughter. He never requested her to sing for the sheer pleasure of hearing her voice. Though she didn't believe it, she had a talent for music and a pure voice; however, she was too intimidated to sing around her father anymore. While she sang at work and was told she had a lovely voice, her father didn't seem to agree, and his opinion mattered most to her.

Her biggest fear was disappointing her father. She loved him almost to the point of idolization. She wanted to please him in all things, but she couldn't. It broke her heart whenever he said that he loved another woman's voice because he never said that he loved her voice. Yet, she believed that his voice was the most beautiful sound on earth. He probably didn't understand how much she yearned for his approval.

If only he knew…

o0o

He was staring at her again.

She kept her eyes on her paper, but her face turned bright red and her heart thudded faster… and not in a pleasant way. Those eyes burned into her and it took all of her willpower not to run out of the room. She carefully arranged her long hair to shield her from his gaze and tried to concentrate on the list of Spanish words in front of her.

Mr. Buquet was a short, round man with greasy black hair. He had tiny, dark eyes and a fairly monotone voice, which meant that he was extremely boring as a teacher. None of his students liked him, and a few, including Christine, were afraid of him. She would have changed to another class if she only could, but a year of a foreign language was required at her college, and unfortunately, Spanish was the only available language. So, she was forced to endure the teacher's lusty and unashamed stares class after torturous class.

Christine raised her eyes quickly in order to take notes from the whiteboard, and she met Buquet's eyes again. The coldness and pure evil she saw there terrified her, and she shuddered. He started to walk towards her like a snake slithers to its prey. Just before he reached her, the bell rang. He turned his head, and in that instant, she grabbed her textbook and all but ran out of the room.

She didn't stop until she was safely at her rented locker in the hallway. As she fumbled with her combination, the banging of a locker next to hers made her jump, and she almost screamed until she saw her best friend, Meagan Giry.

"Geez, what's your problem?" Meg asked.

Christine took a deep breath. "Sorry, Meg. I was just literally saved by the bell."

Meg gave her a sympathetic look. "Was Mr. Buquet giving you a hard time again?"

"You could say that." Christine opened her locker. "I never want to set foot in his classroom again."

"Why don't you talk to your dad or the board about him?"

"That's the thing!" Christine exclaimed angrily, slamming her locker shut. "He hasn't actually _done_anything. He's just a creepy guy who stares at me!" She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "Besides, you know better than anyone that Dad will just think I'm being ridiculous."

"Well, at least you only have take Spanish for another few months. Then, you'll never have to see Mr. Buquet again," Meg said in a consoling tone.

"Thanks." However, May seemed ages away for Christine.

"Do you want to make a Starbucks run?" Meg asked in an attempt to cheer up her friend.

Christine shook her head. "I have to go straight to work."

"Oh. I guess I'll see you later, then." Meg gave her a quick hug and left.

_I really need to rethink my life,_Christine thought to herself as she started her car. Although she was only nineteen, she already felt a sense of hopelessness about her life. On the outside, she supposed she looked like everything was going well for her. Her father was successful, she made good grades, and she had a good job at a high prestige restaurant. Yet, she had no idea where her life was headed.

In reality, Christine was lost.

o0o

"As you can see, gentlemen, we have much to gain by sponsoring such a large corporation," one of the men finished.

The man who was most hidden in the shadows smirked ever so slightly. The men with whom he dined played upstanding citizens, but he knew better. They were thieves, traitors, and murderers dressed in business suits. While he worked with them and attended their meetings, he despised each and every one of them.

"Brava, Buquet," he said with a sneer. "Becoming respectable, are we?" He enjoyed the sight of an angry flush on the man's face. Joseph Buquet was the most despicable of the group present. His cover job was a Spanish professor at one of the local colleges.. Yet, he was dark and treacherous, and all of his underground business partners knew he was behind many missing person's cases. They also knew that those missing people would never be found alive.

"I assure you, Mr. Destler, that I'm still as evil as ever," Buquet remarked with more than a trace of contempt in his voice. "But, it's important that the general public views us in a positive light."

The statement earned another smirk. No matter what Buquet claimed, Erik was certain that the man wasn't well-liked either by the general public or his fellow criminals.

"Ah, I understand," Erik said, his voice sarcastic. "And, would you mind sharing how successful you have been in maintaining your excellent reputation? Perhaps you would be so kind as to give us some tips."

Before Buquet could respond, a soft, feminine voice was heard. "Good evening. My name is Christine, and I'll be your server this evening."

Erik never would have looked at her if he hadn't heard Buquet say, "Hello, Miss Daaë! I had no idea you worked here!" The predatory smile on his face clearly stated otherwise. Erik raised his eyes curiously… and froze.

She was beautiful. Her skin was pale, which enhanced her large brown eyes. The girl - for she looked very young - had long, curly chestnut hair. Erik couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Yes, Mr. Buquet," she replied politely. "How are you?"

"Very well, Christine. Thank you," he answered. It was then that Erik noticed she wasn't meeting Buquet's eyes. She seemed nervous.

"You know each other?" another man asked.

"She's one of my students," Buquet explained, emphasizing the word _my_when he saw the way Erik was staring at her.

"Would you gentlemen like me to take your drink orders?" Christine asked with a smile that wasn't quite genuine. All she wanted at that moment was to escape her Spanish teacher's gaze.

All of the men ordered their drinks except for Erik. "And, what would you like, sir?" she inquired with a smile. He blinked several times before realizing that she was talking to him. "I'll just have water," he finally managed to answer. She nodded and left, his eyes never leaving her.

"I have to say I'm jealous, Joseph," the man seated directly to Buquet's left commented. "She's very pretty. All that's left for you to do is seduce her!"

A current of anger shot through Erik. The girl - Christine - was innocent and pure… he could see it! For a leech like Buquet to pursue her was an outrage! While his own hands were not exactly clean, he never harmed women and children. He managed to check his temper and calmly commented, "If Buquet is capable of seducing anyone, that is."

The group of men howled with laughter while Buquet glared at Erik. Then, Christine appeared with a tray of drinks, causing more laughter. She blushed, which - in Erik's mind, at least - only added to her beauty.

_Poor girl,_he thought sympathetically. _She thinks they are laughing at her._He was surprised. Since when did he feel sympathy towards anyone?

Christine recovered quickly and handed each man his drink. When Erik received his drink, he looked her in the eyes and said, "Thank you, Christine."

She was stunned for a second. None of her customers had ever spoken to her in such a kind and gentle voice before, and none of them had ever thanked her by name, either. She decided to be extra attentive to the strange man wearing the white mask. "May I take your order, sir?" she asked cheerfully.

Erik purposely ordered one of the more expensive dishes. He couldn't help but feel smug when she took Buquet's order last. She didn't look at Buquet while he was talking, either, which he noticed.

"The best for last, right?" he asked with a wink. She smiled indulgently, but she was thinking, _Dream on, sicko. If I had a choice, I wouldn't be serving you at all._After she placed their orders, she sat on one of the stools at the bar and watched the group of men. The one who had treated her so kindly wore a white mask that covered half of his face. He must have been very serious because he didn't smile or laugh. She shuddered when Buquet saw her watching them and winked again. More than ever, she felt uneasy around him and wished that he had been the one to order water instead of alcohol.

When their food was ready, she served the last man first and Buquet last. "Enjoy your meal," she told the group. Then, she looked directly at Erik and smiled gently. "Please let me know if you need me," she instructed.

"Thank you, Christine. I will, " he promised. Her smile widened, and she left again.

"Just wait until you hear her sing," one man commented.

"Sing?" Erik questioned, instantly interested.

"All of the servers perform during Friday evenings," the man explained. "I've never heard a finer voice."

Sure enough, Christine walked onto the small stage not ten minutes later. She took the microphone in her hands, closed her eyes as the opening measure of _Pie Jesu_played, and then, she sang.

The world might have ended and Erik never would have noticed. He felt as though he was hypnotized. The girl's voice was absolutely exquisite. She sang like an angel, and for the first time in his life, he questioned the logic of his doubt of God's existence. Only an all-powerful and perfect Being could create so much beauty.

Although he never wanted the song to end, she was murmuring a thank you into the microphone as the crowd applauded all too soon. The conversation at his table focused on business, but his mind was elsewhere.

He tried to speak to her when she brought their check, but Buquet moved first.

"Are you intending to take Spanish next year, Christine?" he asked with a smile that closely resembled the Cheshire Cat.

_Is he serious?_she wondered as she gave him a rather plastic-looking smile. "No, sir, I'm not… I'm only taking Spanish this year because it's required."_Take that, Professor._ She smiled again with a hint of sarcasm and hurried away.

Buquet saw Erik's arrogant smile out of the corner of his eye. "She wants me," he affirmed. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Christine, who was within earshot, gasped angrily. How _dare_he! Could he not take a hint? She was his _student,_for crying out loud! Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she took the receipt to her customers.

"Have a good evening, gentlemen," she said with a hint of disdain. But, before she could escape, a hand grabbed hers. She whirled around angrily, expecting to see her loathsome Spanish teacher… and met the eyes of the masked man.

"You have a beautiful voice, Christine," he told her gently.

"Thank you, sir," she answered in a surprised tone. "That's very kind of you to say."

"It's true; you have the kind of voice that can change people." _Even me._

Unexpected tears entered her eyes. This man had shown her more kindness and attention in one evening than her father had shown her during the past seven years. "Thank you so much… for everything." She realized that he was still holding her hand, and she let go quickly. "Have a good night." Then, she was gone.

Erik watched her walk away. Once she was out of sight, he placed a hundred dollar bill on the table. She deserved so much more for her sweetness.

He smiled. He was certain he would be seeing Christine Daaë again very soon.


	3. Dance

**I was considering waiting a few days before posting this chapter, but I decided that wouldn't be very nice. I won't be able to update ALL of the chapters this quickly, but I'll post them whenever I can. R&R!**

**Chapter Two: Dance**

Christine rolled her eyes. Carlotta was more than overdoing her solo. She was like a proud and arrogant peacock who was all too eager to put her feathers on display. And, everyone else in the university choir was tired of the diva showing off all of the time.

Once the song ended, Carlotta strutted back to her place amongst the other chorus members. When she passed Christine, she smirked. Christine gritted her teeth and refused to meet her eyes.

"Good practice, everyone," Mr. Daaë announced. "I'll see all of you at practice tomorrow." All of the students grabbed their choir books and prepared to leave. Christine made her way to where her father was standing. "Do you want to grab some dinner before I have to go to work?" she asked.

"I can't… I need to go finish selecting the songs for the spring performance," Mr. Daaë answered as he gathered his sheet music. "Maybe we can go some other time."

"Yeah, sure," Christine muttered sarcastically.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll see you later." She walked towards the door.

"Christine!"

She turned around, hoping against hope that her father was the one who had called her, but only the accompanist, Raoul, was walking towards her.. She forced a smile on her face. "Hello, Raoul."

"Hi," he said, smiling. "Listen, I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me tonight?"

It took a lot of effort for her to keep her mouth from falling open. Everyone knew that Carlotta had her sight set on Raoul, and Christine had no desire to be her rival. "I'm sorry, Raoul; I have to go to work."

"Oh." He truly looked disappointed. "Well, perhaps some other time, then?"

"Ummm… yeah, some other time." She could have kicked myself for using the same lie her father had given her, but she didn't know what else to say. "Thanks for asking, though." She hurried away before he could say anything else. Raoul was a nice boy, and certainly good-looking, but she was not looking for a relationship. College and work consumed all of her time and energy.

_I guess I'll just go to work early, _she thought as she made her way to the parking lot. _If I'm lucky, I'll be able to clock-in early. _Of course, thoughts of the restaurant automatically led to thoughts of the masked customer she had served three nights ago. He had been unusually courteous, and when she had gone to his table to clean up the remains of the meal, a hundred dollar bill was on the table next to his plate. She would have been hopeful of seeing him again if she could be certain that Mr. Buquet wouldn't be there as well.

The associate manager, Lisa, was at the bar when she walked in the restaurant. "Hey, Lisa. Would it be possible for me to clock-in early?"

Lisa smiled. "Go ahead. It looks like it's going to be a slow night, but you're welcome to start working if you want."

"Thanks!" Christine called as she went to the ladies' room to change. Fortunately, her job didn't require her to wear the stereotypical high-prestige restaurant uniform of a white shirt with black pants. The lady employees were allowed to wear skirts or dresses as long as they weren't too revealing. "We're a respectable establishment, not Hooters," was Lisa's way of putting it. Christine slipped into her favorite black heels and red dress, applied some more makeup, and went back to the bar. Time for a long night of work.

o0o

Around 9:30, most of the tables were empty, even though the restaurant didn't close until 11:00 pm. This was normal for a weeknight, and Christine didn't mind in the least. She was cleaning a table when another waitress, Hannah, approached her with wide eyes.

"You have one fine looking man sitting in your section!" she told Christine excitedly. "If you play your cards right, he might take you home!"

"I'm not like that, remember?" Christine reminded her co-worker.

"Well, he's waiting for you, so get a move on, girl!"

"Alright, alright!" Christine laughed and grabbed a menu. _S_he wondered about the shallowness of most of the other girls she knew as she made her way to the only booth in her section that was occupied, which was in the back corner of the restaurant in the shadows. When she saw her customer, she froze.

"Hello, Christine," the masked man said with a smile.

"Hi?" she replied with a great deal of uncertainty. _He remembers my name?_

His smile grew. "Are you going to give me the menu?" he asked, his voice gently teasing.

"Menu?" Then, she remembered herself. "Oh! Here." She hastily handed him the menu. While he studied the listed beverage options, she studied him. The right side of his face was covered by a white mask that began right under his hairline and ended a couple of inches above his mouth. Such a thing was too prominent to be forgotten. The left side of his face was handsome. His eyes looked dark and well-formed over high cheekbones. Slight lines appeared around his left eye when he smiled, so guessed that he was considerably older than herself. His teeth were white, his lips were red, and his dark brown hair was well-groomed. As for his clothes, he was impeccably dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and tie. Probably the aspect about him that awed him the most was his voice. She could recall how cold he had sounded while conversing with Buquet and the other business men. Yet, his voice was kind and gentle now. And, it was speaking.

"I'm sorry, sir. What?" She blushed ever so slightly, much to Erik's amusement. He had, of course, noticed her studying him, so he had taken his time in selecting his drink, despite the fact that he knew what he wanted. He repeated his order, and she hurried away, a little flustered.

"Hannah, I need you to prepare a drink for me customer and take it to him," she said as she went to the back. Christine couldn't handle alcohol, as she was only nineteen.

"Sure. What does he want?" When Christine named the beverage, which happened to be the most expensive wine on the menu, Hannah raised an eyebrow. "High maintenance?"

"More like high class," was Christine's response. "But, not in the snobby way."

Hannah laughed. "Is there any other way?"

"Yes. He actually has class. _That's _the difference." She watched as Hannah took the drink to the man, and she was annoyed by feeling a bit relieved when he merely nodded his thanks. After a few more moments, she walked back to his booth.

"Have you decided what you would like?" she inquired. Erik looked up and smiled. So, she had come back. He had been worried that she wouldn't, even though he knew that she would be at the restaurant until closing time.

"What would you suggest?" he asked in a friendly tone.

Christine thought for a moment. "All of the salads are good. The chicken parmesan is my favorite, but you're probably thinking of something more fine," she finished, a bit embarrassed by her immature and naïve preference.

"I'll have the chicken parmesan, then," he requested, much to her surprise. "Would you bring an extra plate as well?"

"Yes sir. Just let me know if you need anything else." Then, she left again.

Erik looked around the restaurant. Every table was empty, and the only other customers were seated at the bar. He checked his watch, which told him he had about an hour until closing time. He planned to learn everything possible about Christine Daaë within that time. She intrigued him. Never had he encountered a person with such a mixture of innocence, vulnerability, and spirit. After so many years working with the lowest of the low, he hadn't believed that any human could be good. Now, he was discovering the possibility that he was very wrong.

Christine returned soon with a hot plate that she set in front of him. She placed the empty plate on the table and said, "Enjoy your meal." She turned to walk away, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

"Why don't you stay and chat for a while?" he suggested.

Glancing around nervously, she quietly said, "I don't think I should while I'm working."

Erik smiled in a disarming and persuasive way. "I do believe I'm your only customer. Surely your supervisor won't complain."

He had a valid point, for Lisa and Hannah were sitting at a table talking. So, after looking around again uneasily, she slowly sat on the bench across from him. He offered his wine glass, and she shook her head.

"No, thank you. I can't drink."

"Why ever not?" he asked, confused.

"You have to be twenty-one to drink," she informed him.

He smiled. "Then, how old are you, Christine?"

She met his eyes. "You first." As nice as the man was, she didn't know anything about him.

He thought for a second. "How about you get yourself a drink first?" he suggested.

"Good idea." She rose and fetched herself a coca-cola. As she walked by Lisa and Hannah, she saw them watching her. She merely shrugged her shoulders and sat back down at the masked man's booth. Half of the chicken parmesan was now on the empty plate she had brought him.

"What's this?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's your dinner," he stated as though it was obvious.

"No, thank you. I can't -"

"Don't tell me there's a law that says you can't eat chicken parmesan until you're twenty-one years old."

She sighed in annoyance. "There's not one, but -"

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"No." When he smiled, she knew she was defeated.

"Please, eat," he requested, gesturing towards the plate with a pale hand elegantly. With another sigh, she noticed that another set of silverware was sitting by the plate. That must have been Hannah's doing. She took a few bites, and then looked at him again.

"You never answered my question," he reminded her.

"You never answered mine," she shot back.

He laughed. "Shall we play twenty questions, then?" he asked in a teasing tone.

She smiled back unwillingly. "I'm thinking more like three questions."

"If you wish. But, the age question is off the table," he added. "At least, you can't ask me."

She pondered this for a moment, and then shook her head. "Fair enough. Now, first question: why did you leave me such a large tip last Friday night?"

His eyebrow rose again. "Impertinent, are we?" he asked, then answered the question. "I tipped you for the excellent service and for the pleasure of hearing you sing."

"Oh." Well, that hadn't given her anything.

"My turn," he announced. "What is your age?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you must know, I'm nineteen," she answered.

"Really?" That made her smile. "Is that your next question?" she teased.

"Hardly," he said, laughing. "I just thought you seemed more mature than most teenagers."

"Well, my mother died when I was very young, so I had to grow up very fast." She looked down at the table, and he watched in sympathy. _Ah, pain, _he thought sadly. _It affects even the purest of us. _Without thinking, he reached across the table and touched her hand. "I'm very sorry."

Christine looked at him. "It's not like it's your fault," she said with a hint of bitterness in her voice. Then, she moved her hand back gently. "But, thank you." After several moments passed, she asked, "So, what do you do?"

_She WOULD ask that, _Erik thought. "I'm an architect and composer," he answered smoothly. Well, that was _part _of the truth… and she certainly didn't need to know the rest.

Her eyes lit with real interest. "Oh, really? Have you composed anything that I'd recognize?"

"Probably not. I write opera, not _Broadway _show tunes."

She suddenly felt in awe of this man. He composed _opera? _What in the world was he doing dining with her, then? She was only an average college student. What could he possibly see in her that was even remotely interesting to him?

"It's your turn," she prompted him. By that time, they had both finished their meals.

"What is your favorite flower?" he wanted to know.

"Ummm… roses." That was an unexpected question. At least it was perfectly harmless. Then, a very obvious question hit her, and she felt stupid for not asking it sooner. "What's your name?"

"Erik," he answered simply.

"Erik," she repeated, inwardly wondering why he hadn't given her a last name. He reveled in the sound of his name on her lips. She was the first person to ever say his name without hatred, fear, or pity, and he'd had enough of those three to last a lifetime.

"Last question… will you dance with me?"

"Dance with you?" she repeated, shocked. He nodded. "But, there's no music," she protested.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I believe that can be arranged." He stood and held out his hand. "Please?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip and then slowly rose and took his hand. One dance seemed harmless enough. He led her the small stage, carefully put his hands around her waist, and they danced. At first, she was stiff, but she slowly relaxed. Then, music began to play. She turned and saw Hannah giving her a big grin and a thumbs-up. She rolled her eyes, causing Erik to laugh softly. As the minutes passed and one song went into another, her arms felt more comfortable around Erik's neck. She didn't know why, but she felt like she had known him for a very long time. He played the elegant gentleman, never trying to take advantage of their closeness as less honorable men were known to do with other women. She felt… safe. And, as they danced in the shadows, she didn't feel alone.

They danced until they heard a throat clearing. Both looked and saw Hannah standing there, looking awkward.

"Ummm, sorry to ruin the fun, guys, but it's closing time," she said.

"Oh, sorry!" Christine exclaimed, quickly stepping away from Erik. She looked at him with an embarrassed expression. "I have to go help shut everything down for the night," she told him reluctantly.

"I understand," he assured her. Then, his eyes never leaving her face, he lifted her hand and brushed it gently with his lips. Her heart stopped beating when he smiled at her. "Farewell, Christine."

"Goodnight, Erik." She smiled at him one more time and then hurried away to the back.

After she was out of sight, he walked back over his booth and placed another large tip on the table. He wished there was more he could give her.

Suddenly, he had an idea…

o0o

"Christine? Is that you?" her father called as she shut the door of their house.

"Yes, dad, it's me." _Who else would it be?_

"Oh." Her father walked into the room. "How was work?"

"It was fine. How's the program coming along?"

"Fine, just fine," he replied. "I think it's going to open a lot of opportunities for many of the students."

"Really?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes. Carlotta is sure to have a ton of scholarships offered if she performs like she usually does."

"How nice." Christine felt incredibly foolish for believing even for a second that her father had been talking about his own daughter. "I'm going to bed. Night."

"Okay." Her father didn't even look at her as she went up the stairs.

She sat on her bed and sighed, resting her head in her hands. Her father didn't care if she was there or not. He cared more about the success of one of his students than the success of his own daughter. He didn't care about her at all. And, as she lay in the shadows, she felt terribly alone.

**Posted June 13, 2010**


	4. Patience

**I'm sorry that this chapter is rather short compared to the first two, but I'll try to make it up to you by updating the next chapter within the next few days. R&R!**

**Chapter Three: Patience**

Erik winced as the soprano sang. He didn't know who gave her a microphone, but that person deserved to be fired. Oh, she was technically doing everything right, but she was like a robot. Joy and passion were absent in her countenance and tone.

His eyes roamed to Christine, who was almost lost in the middle of the other sopranos. _She _had the passion that the lead soprano, Carlotta, was sorely lacking. Though young and unsure of her place in the world, she had the kind of joy in life he'd never felt. He smiled when she subtly glanced at her watch. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was tired of Carlotta's singing. Christine could sing circles around her. It was truly an injustice that she didn't have a larger role in the performance. As Carlotta sang a particular high note that she really shouldn't be trying to reach, Christine winced and rolled her eyes.

_My Christine, _he thought, caressing her name in his mind. She _was _his, even though she didn't know it yet. _I _will _have her, _he promised himself. _I just have to be patient._

The rehearsal finally came to an end. Erik ruled against immediately going to Christine as he knew it would be more prudent to wait until the other students had left. He watched as Christine approached her father and tapped on his shoulder. As the conversation progressed, he noticed Christine's disappointed expression and the pleading in her eyes. However, her father seemed oblivious to the fact that whatever he was saying was hurting his daughter. Then, when Mr. Daaë dismissed his daughter with a careless wave of his hand, he rose.

Christine sighed. Her father was going to be too busy to spend time with her yet again. She wouldn't have minded as much normally except this was the only night she wouldn't have to work for the next couple of weeks. But, that didn't matter to her father. Work, Carlotta's voice lessons… those mattered to her father. She didn't. As she sighed in defeat and turned to go, she spotted a figure in black standing near the back of the auditorium. She looked closer and saw a white mask.

_Erik._

She hurried down the aisle until she reached him. With a sudden wave of uncertainty, she smiled shyly. "Hello, Erik."

"Hello, Christine," he replied, returning her smile. Relieved, she ventured to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the college board, so I came here to watch the rehearsal for the upcoming performance." Inwardly, he smirked. Who would have guessed that he was a board member of the very college she attended? He made the connection after Buquet's boast about her being in his Spanish class. How funny that she had been so close and he'd never noticed! Now, he was watching the choir rehearsal, which could be easily be explained as a coincidence.

"Oh," was Christine's only response. His expression puzzled her, but she chose to ignore it. Really, she shouldn't be very surprised that he was on the board of the same university she attended; after all, it _did _containone of the most prestigious music programs in the country.

"I was wondering… would you join me for dinner this evening?" he inquired.

Taken aback, she stuttered, "What? Dinner with you?"

"I promise not to ask any inappropriate questions," he prodded with a smile. _Please, Christine, _he silently begged. _Please say yes._

She softened. How many times had her father put her off due to inconvenience? Erik had shown her nothing but kindness, and it would be horrid of her to not return the favor when all he was asking was to take her to dinner. So, she smiled and said, "I would love to join you." As they left the building together, she noticed her father watching them. _Oh, NOW he cares._

o0o

Christine watched Erik anxiously as she sat across from him in the small café. He had been a perfect gentleman throughout the course of the evening, but she couldn't help but notice how he watched her. Indeed, it seemed as though his eyes never left her.

"Erik… may I ask you something?" she questioned, her voice timid.

"Of course, Christine," he replied smoothly. _Please don't let her ask about the mask…_

"What do you want from me?" she whispered.

_Oh, Christine… I want all of you… _He sighed and placed his elbows on the table. As he placed his fingertips together, he spoke carefully. "Christine, I have a proposition for you." She nodded, and he continued. "The other night, when I told you that you have a beautiful voice, I meant it. However, you could use a teacher." He paused to make sure that he hadn't offended her. She merely continued to meet his gaze, so he took a deep breath before making his offer. "So, I was wondering if you would consider the possibility of me giving you lessons."

_Is he serious? _Christine wondered. Of all of the possible answers he could have given her, this was what she had least expected. She met Erik's eyes and saw that he was, in fact, very serious. "You want to give me voice lessons?" she asked skeptically. He nodded. "_Why?_"

"As I said, you have a wonderful voice, and I see much potential in you. I believe that you could go far with the right training."

"I, well, I don't have much money... I have to pay for all of my college courses, and…"

He laughed softly. "I don't desire or need your money, Christine." _I only want you. _

The girl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Then, what do you want? I mean, nothing is free."

"We can work out a method of payment at a later date," he said dismissively.

None of this made any sense to Christine. "I… don't know… I mean, I hardly know you," she stammered.

His expression softened. "It's alright," Christine," he promised gently. "I only want what's best for you."

She bit her lip. "Would you… Is it okay if I think about your offer first?"

Erik hated waiting. More was resting on her answer than she knew, and every moment brought more torment for him. Yet, as he looked at her, he knew that patience was the only way he was going to accomplish what he so desperately wanted. "I will give you three days, Christine," he said. "Then, you must give me your answer."

Three days… that wasn't a very long time, but it would have to be enough. "I promise to have an answer for you by then."

As they parted for the evening, he briefly touched her cheek. "Remember… three days," he reminded her.

_Please, Christine… everything rests on you._

o0o

Christine paced her bedroom floor. It was the third day. That night, she was supposed to give Erik an answer.

On one hand, she didn't like the whole "discuss payment at a later date" concept. She knew it was never a good idea to enter into any sort of bargain without knowing exactly what was expected of her.

Still… she couldn't deny the fact that Erik intrigued her. He was mysterious and cryptic, but she felt drawn to him. And, the truth was that she did want to sing. Living with someone like her father instilled a love of music in her. Her father was a great man, and she longed to become great like he was… to make him proud of her for the first time in her life. This was her opportunity, and as far as she knew, she would never have another chance.

Christine's mind was made up. She knew what she must do.

o0o

Erik waited expectantly. "What is your answer, Christine?"

She met his eyes readily. "Teach me," she said softly.

He held out his hand. She looked down, and slowly, ever so slowly, she took it. And, with that touch of her hand, Christine Daaë sold her soul.

**Posted June 19, 2010**


	5. Haunted

**Chapter Four: Haunted**

Mr. Daaë rubbed his eyes tiredly. The hour was late, and he'd been awake since very early in the morning. Yet, that was the routine of his life: wake, go teach music theory at the university, direct rehearsals, give voice lessons, review homework, and then, after the daylight hours were long gone, he _might _be lucky enough to grab about six hours of sleep. However, judging by the stack of papers in front of him, he wasn't going to be so lucky tonight. Never had he intended for his life to become like that, but bills and taxes must be paid, and work was required in order to pay those expenses and to provide for himself and his daughter. So, he poured his whole life into his work, almost completely forsaking everything else.

Groaning, he rose and poured himself a drink. As he raised the glass to his lips, his eyes settled on a photograph.

_Kathryn… _His throat suddenly felt as though it had a knot inside of it when he saw her smile. Her eyes were bright and joyful as they bore into his. He missed her so much. That picture was taken only days before the car accident… He closed his eyes as the horrible day replayed in his mind once again.

"_Honey, are you going to pick up Christine from ballet? Her class ends in about fifteen minutes," she asked in her loving voice._

"_I have to grade all of these papers tonight, sweetheart," he answered without looking up. "Could you get her?"_

"_Allen, this is your night to pick her up. Besides, she told me she wants to sing you a song she wrote this afternoon. Don't you think those papers can wait?"_

_He sighed and looked at her. "It's not that I don't want to go, Kathryn. I'm working. I want to be able to give you and Christine the kind of life you both deserve."_

_She walked over to where he was sitting and hugged him from behind. "Just promise me that you'll free your schedule a little. You work too hard, Allen."_

_Allen smiled at his wife. Worrying about those she loved was typical about of Kathryn. She was always taking care of everyone. "I promise." He reached over and quickly kissed her. "I love you."_

"_I love you too, babe." She turned to leave. "I'll call you when I'm on my way home." With that, she left the house forever._

_o0o_

"_Excuse me?" Please, ma'am…" He was filled with helplessness as yet another nurse walked past him. Right as he was on the verge of screaming and yanking his hair out of its roots, a middle-aged man dressed in a surgeon's uniform approached him. _

"_Mr. Daaë?" the man inquired._

"_Yes. Please… how are my wife and child?" he asked anxiously._

"_Your daughter suffered some bruising and a broken leg, but otherwise she's going to make a full recovery and is in stable condition."_

"_And… my wife?" Allen whispered._

_The surgeon took a deep breath. "The driver's side was directly hit by the other vehicle, sir. We took her to the emergency room, but… she didn't make it. I'm sorry."_

_Although the man said more, Allen didn't hear him. Kathryn… dead…_

Mr. Daaë's thoughts were interrupted by a small voice. "Dad?"

He turned to see Christine standing in the doorway. He almost couldn't stand to look at her, she resembled her mother so closely. He forced a weak smile onto his face. "Yes, Christine?"

"Are you alright?" She sounded worried. _Just like Kathryn…_

"I'm fine," he answered vaguely. Christine noticed the glass of alcohol in her father's hand, and her concern for him deepened. Every time he was at his desk, it seemed like alcohol was there, too. "Are you sure, Dad?" He nodded. She saw the photograph of her mother directly at his eye level, and she sighed. In only moments, she had her arms around him. After the initial shock, he slowly put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Get some sleep, Dad," she told him. She stepped away, and he saw tears in her eyes. "The papers can wait."

"_Those papers can wait…" _Kathryn's words haunted him. "Goodnight, Christine," he replied quietly. "Sleep well." The girl left, and he went into the kitchen and poured the contents of his glass into the sink. Those papers would just have to be graded another night.

o0o

Christine sank into her chair. "Please… let me rest for a few minutes," she begged. Erik gave a frustrated moan, but he nodded. She sighed in relief. When she agreed to take voice lessons, she didn't have any clue what she was agreeing to exactly. Erik was a demanding teacher who expected nothing less than perfection. With lesson, she grew more and more uneasy about her decision. Oh, he was still courteous, but… her instincts were telling her that something was very wrong with the way he demanded so much of her time and energy.

All of a sudden, a buzzing noise was heard. Erik pulled out his cell phone and held it to his ear.

"What?" he snapped. Christine jumped slightly, surprised to hear him speaking in such a sharp tone. He didn't notice; he was listening intently to whoever was on the other line. Then, he placed his hand over the phone. "I must take care of some business, Christine," he told her calmly. Still, she could see and feel his agitation. "Stay here; I shall return shortly." Without waiting for a reply, he left the room and walked down the hallway to avoid being overheard.

"Alright, now tell me again why the job hasn't been done yet?" he said softly into the phone.

"He hasn't been seen either at work or at his apartment for the past several days, sir. We can't very well break into his apartment; he has neighbors! He's probably aware that you know he stole files from your office, and he's not likely to go out into public for a long time."

Erik groaned. "Keep someone watching his apartment twenty-four/seven," he instructed. "He can't hide forever."

"Yes, sir. Anything else."

"No. Call me if the situation changes." He snapped the phone shut. Well, that certainly wasn't what he needed to hear. If the man had simply stolen designs, Erik easily could have taken the matter to court and won, for he had friends in high places as well as low. Unfortunately, the particular files that had been taken were of a very sensitive nature.

He shook his head wearily. This wasn't the first time someone had crossed him, and it wouldn't be the last. Everything would be taken care of in time… after all, he was still standing there, wasn't he?

After making sure his mask was still in place, he made his way back to the music room. He opened the door and was relieved to see that Christine still sitting there, waiting. Good… there were some things about him she just didn't need to know.

"Is your throat rested?" he demanded. She nodded, and he sat back down at the piano. "Sing." Before she could protest, he launched into a song. He needed to hear her voice and forget the uneasiness within him that wouldn't quite go away.

o0o

"Christine!" Erin hissed, elbowing her.

Christine jerked to attention. Mr. Buquet was looking at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized. "Would you please repeat the question?"

"Thank you for your eagerness to answer the question, Miss Daaë," he sarcastically replied. A snort of laughter was heard behind her, and she didn't have to look to know it was Carlotta. "Will you please translate what's on the board?"

Grateful that she'd managed to study over the weekend, Christine correctly translated the sentence before her. She managed to pay attention the rest of the class to prevent more humiliation by the teacher. Once it ended, made her way to her locker.

"How was class today?" Meg wanted to know.

"It was normal. Carlotta laughed at me when Mr. Buquet caught me not paying attention, of course." She leaned against her locker, thoughtful. "You know, I wonder why she's so mean to me? It's not like I'm a rival to her or anything."

"You might want to re-think that," was Meg's response.

"What is _that _supposed to mean?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Christine, have you really not noticed that Raoul de Chagny is interested in you? And, need I remind you that this is the same Raoul de Chagny that Carlotta has been interested in since the start of the term?"

"But, I hardly even talk to him!" Christine protested.

"Carlotta doesn't care." Meg shrugged. "It's her catty nature. Besides, she has hated you ever since junior high because she tripped over you in her first lead role. Plus, you were her understudy several times, which made her view you as a threat." She closed her locker and added, "You know what they say: 'An elephant _never _forgets!'"

_Maybe Meg is right, _Christine thought later as Carlotta glared at her… again. All she had done was smile when Raoul bade her a good afternoon. The short interaction between them hadn't gone unnoticed by the lead soprano, and she was furious.

Practice ended early, so she arrived at the room that she and Erik used for her music lessons early. Right before she opened the door, she heard soft violin music. She opened the door slightly, and she saw Erik playing the violin, his eyes closed in concentration. The song wasn't familiar to her, so she guessed he had written it. As she listened, something happened that changed her forever: he sang.

Never before had she heard such a tragic sound. All of the uneasiness she had been feeling regarding him melted away at the coaxing of his voice. His voice sang of immense heartache and longing, yet it was still beautiful. Tears began flowing down her cheeks, but she didn't notice; she was completely captivated by what she was hearing. Surely such an ethereal voice shouldn't be suffering! It was a strange and devastating torture for her to listen to the voice's cry, but she couldn't bear to walk away. Indeed, she felt as though she couldn't leave even if that had been her desire.

Once the song was over, she quietly entered the room, and he opened his eyes. "What song was that?" she asked softly.

Erik didn't seem surprised by her presence. Although he didn't tell her, he had known she was there, listening. His original intention had been to only play his violin, but then, he sensed her. He knew exactly what the capabilities of his voice were and he accompanied the music of his violin with his voice. He knew that he could make her feel any emotion that his voice sang, and at that moment, he wanted to give her a glimpse of the hell he lived in. Sharing intimate feelings, whether joy or agony, connects people in a way that's very hard to ever forget, and by choosing to make her feel his pain, he was binding her to him.

"I wrote it long ago," he replied, placing his violin back into its case. He offered no further explanation even though he knew she was curious. "Are you ready to begin your lesson?" She nodded, and their lesson began.

o0o

She couldn't sleep.

Christine sighed in frustration and rolled onto her side. No matter how much she tried to distract herself, all she could focus on was that song playing over and over again in her mind. She had managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but the voice haunted her even in her dreams. The longer she was kept awake, the more she worried. It wouldn't do for her to appear for her lesson exhausted; that would be unacceptable. She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep again, but the voice was still there, taunting her as it kept her from sleep.

She bit her lip, wondering if the choice she was about to make would harm her more than help. However, the music in her head didn't seem to be willing to relent any time soon, so she rose and quietly went into the bathroom. After filling her cup with water, she opened the cabinet and took out two benadryl tablets. She put the tablets in her mouth and swallowed them quickly. Then, she went back to her bed. Once she pulled the covers over herself and closed her eyes, sleep finally claimed her, and the haunting voice didn't exist for the rest of the night.

**Posted on June 26, 2010**


	6. Control

**Chapter Five: Control**

"Joseph Buquet, are you listening to me?" Kasey demanded.

He tossed his pen onto his desk carelessly. "Obviously not," he replied, deliberately irritating her. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to say it again?"

"We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon," she informed him as she crossed her arms.

"With?" he prompted.

"Our lawyers, Joseph!" she snapped, glaring at him.

"Oh." He picked up took pen and started writing again. He refused to let her see that she'd upset him. Without looking up, he added, "I suppose you scheduled the appointment for the afternoon so your evening would be free?"

"How dare you!" she hissed, venom flaming in her eyes.

Joseph slammed the pen back onto the desk. "How dare I, Kasey?" he shouted. "How dare _I?_"

Mrs. Buquet suddenly looked uneasy. "Quiet down, Joseph. The neighbors will hear you."

"They already know, Kasey," he retorted with even more volume. He didn't care if the whole world knew that his marriage was crumbling; what did it truly matter when the outcome wouldn't change? "It's no secret that you've been sleeping with Adam. Everyone knows what a disgusting piece of filth you are."

"Well, it's your fault! You've always been so engrossed in your job…"

"That's bull, woman!" It was all he could do not to strangle her. "You never _let _me do anything for you! What did you expect me to do, stay here and listen to you gripe and complain all of the time? I wonder why you've taken so long to start the divorce process!"

Kasey grabbed her keys and coat before storming towards the exit. "I'm leaving. Be at my attorney's office at four tomorrow."

"Fine. Give my regards to my little brother." Joseph sat back down at his desk. As the door slammed, he added, "I'll see him soon enough in hell."

o0o

Christine stifled a groan as she reviewed her grades. While she expected a drop in her grades, she had never expected _this! _If she wasn't careful, she would be suspended from the music program, which would make her father far less than pleased. As for Erik… he would be livid.

She shook her head. How could she not have seen that everything was becoming out of hand? Although she would _never _dare to say it out-loud, Erik was mostly to blame for the steep decline in her grades. After all, he was the one who demanded absolute devotion and perfection regarding her voice lessons. And, she did her absolute best to please him. True, her voice had already greatly improved, but apparently, the time she invested in her voice was having negative consequences on other areas of her life. Every night when she was finally able to go to sleep, she was exhausted. Thus, mornings were like murder for her.

As much as she wanted to sing, she couldn't bear to see her father's disappointment if he discovered how poorly she was faring. So, she decided that she would have to stop taking lessons. Hopefully, Erik would be able to understand.

When she arrived at the classroom where he taught her, he was already there, as usual.

"Good afternoon, Christine," he said pleasantly. She smiled back weakly, and he frowned. Something was wrong. _If anyone has hurt her…_he thought vehemently.

"Erik, there's… there's something I need to tell you," she began anxiously. He raised an eyebrow, and she entwined her fingers in order to calm her shaking hands. "My grades have been suffering, and… I'm afraid that I just don't have enough time to continue my voice lessons. It's not that I don't _want _to continue my lessons; I just have to put my priorities in order…" her voice trailed off as she realized that she was rambling.

He stared at her for a few moments, and then, he shook his head.

"Allow me to help you put your priorities in order, Christine," he offered. She shuddered without really knowing why. "In spite of what you might think, music is the most important thing in your life now. We cannot allow your talent to be wasted."

"That's very kind of you to say, Erik, but I still think…" She stopped when he took a step closer to her. His eyes, which normally held so much kindness, were now like ice.

"I'm not being kind, my dear. You agreed to take lessons from me. You agreed to devote yourself to music. What will you do if you don't sing? You need music, Christine. You _will _continue your lessons, is that understood?" Though his voice was calm, there was a hardness behind it that left no room for argument. She nodded once, terrified. With a sigh, he turned away from her.

"I suggest you go home and rest, Christine," he said, his voice still cold. "I trust that if you want to continue to be in the music program, you will somehow find the time to study." Then, he gestured towards the door as a sign for her to leave. Without hesitating, she left.

Once she was in her car, she immediately locked the doors. Then, she turned the heat on and sat for a few minutes, trying to relax her disturbed nerves. _"You _will _continue your lessons," _he'd said. All of the reasons she had for discontinuing her lessons left her, and all she could do was bend to his will without the slightest protest, even though it was completely unintentional.

_He's as bad as any dictator, _she thought. She might have expected Erik to be sad that she planned to end her lessons; that would be normal. However, never in her wildest dreams had she expected his reaction. He hadn't grown angry or upset at all, really. He simply said, _"You _will _continue your lessons." _Christine's free will had been stripped from her in those five words; he gave her a command, and she was helpless to do anything but obey. A frightening thought suddenly hit her: _it's like I don't even belong to myself anymore._

She shivered and pulled out of the driveway. Maybe if she let Erik have his way, he would relax and let loose a bit. All she could do was hope.

o0o

"I'm sorry, Meg; I just can't go out tonight."

"Well, okay," Meg said reluctantly. "If you're sure... it's just that I haven't seen you outside out classes for weeks now."

"I know. Things are just really busy right now. Maybe we can hang-out soon, okay?"

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

Christine sighed as she ended the call. More than anything, she hated upsetting her best friend, but she didn't have much of a choice; the situation wasn't under her control. After Erik demanded that she continue her voice lessons, she had been forced to severely limit her free time in order to keep up her grades. Unfortunately, that cut down on the time she could spend with Meg.

She massaged her temples wearily as she struggled to stay alert enough to read the textbook in her lap. She was sick of studying and sick of being alone. Frustrated, she pushed her textbook off her lap and rose in order to find something to drink in the kitchen. Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet as she traveled through the house. After filling a glass with water, she was just about to head back upstairs to her room when she heard something. Frowning, she placed her glass on the counter and tiptoed into the adjoining room.

"Hello?" she whispered. She peered through the darkness, but all she could see was the furniture. All was silent now. _It was probably just a cat or something outside, _she finally decided. After retrieving her glass of water, she went back to her room. Little did she suspect that a pair of eyes was watching her.

She managed to read another page, but suddenly, her eyelids were so heavy that she couldn't keep them open. As she yawned, she glanced at her clock. It was really too early to justify sleep, but she was _so _tired. Without bothering to pull the blankets over her, she curled up on her bed and was soon asleep.

A few minutes later, a shadow crept across her room. The shadow carefully lifted her and placed her under the covers of her bed and arranged her head so that it was on her pillow. Then, the shadow gazed upon her.

"My Christine," Erik whispered. He deftly (so as not to wake her) stroked her hair with his fingers and smiled when she moved closer to him. Being with Christine healed a pain that he used to not know existed. Never before had he thought he needed anything or anyone; for years, music had been his companion, his one love. But, now that he'd found her, there was no way on earth he would ever be able to let her go. And, she needed him – she needed his guidance and protection - though she didn't truly understand that yet. She was his and his alone.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. _Yes, Christine Daaė, _he silently promised the sleeping girl._ I know you don't love me yet, but someday, you will. _Then, the shadow melted away into the darkness of the night.

Posted: August 1, 2010


	7. Suspicion

**Sorry it took me so long to update this, guys. My computer is currently going through a severe rebellious stage, so I don't know exactly how soon I can install the next chapter. BUT, it certainly won't take this long again. Please review if you read (and if you're reading this now, that means you). :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Erik. However, I would DEFINITELY have him Punjab my computer if I did.**

**Chapter Six: Suspicion**

Raoul was in the auditorium rehearsing a piano piece. He enjoyed working alone because he greatly preferred quiet when he was concentrating. Besides, he truly hated being interrupted at any time. So, when he heard the auditorium door slam, he whirled around to see who had destroyed his peaceful working environment. To his complete surprise, Christine Daaë stalked over to one of the chairs with an outraged expression on her face. A moment of complete silence followed, and then, the sound of her sobs could be heard throughout the room. Slowly and somewhat bashfully, he approached her.

"Is everything okay?" he asked as he sat in the chair next to hers.

"Of course everything isn't okay!" she snapped. "If everything was okay, I wouldn't be here, would I?"

"Geez, I was only trying to help," Raoul muttered, embarrassed.

Her expression softened. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Look, I'm sorry. It's just… it's just so _hard…"_

"What's hard?" he ventured cautiously. _Just because she's calm now doesn't mean she won't be yelling again in five seconds, _he added silently.

"My voice lessons," she explained. "My teacher... Well, he demands a lot from me. And, he becomes very angry with me when I fail to meet those demands."

"Who is he?" Christine's eyes widened, and he realized he'd asked a sensitive question. But, before he could make a comment, she'd changed her expression was shrugging carelessly. "You don't know him," she replied just a tad bit too lightly. "He doesn't teach here."

_She still didn't answer my question. _However, Raoul decided to let it slide… for now. "Well, if he's so difficult, then why don't you just find a new teacher?"

"Oh, I could never do that!" the girl exclaimed in a tone of genuine horror.

"Why not? Why continue taking lessons from him if he's so hard on you?"

She jumped out of her seat. "I really need to go set up for rehearsal." She started to walk away but stopped and smiled at him. "Thanks for letting me vent," she said sincerely.

"Any time." Yet, as she walked onstage and pulled her music from her book bag, he said to himself, "Something is frightening her about this whole music teacher business." And, as he continued to watch her, his suspicions that something wasn't right grew.

o0o

"Of all the luck!"

Lisa turned just as the plate slipped from Christine's hands and shattered on the ground. "Hannah, grab a broom and dustpan, please," she requested. Christine was kneeling on the ground, trying to gather the broken pieces. "Don't do that; you'll cut yourself," Lisa advised.

Christine groaned. "I'm so sorry, Lisa! Nothing is going right today."

"Honey, it's just a plate. Don't worry about it," her manager said soothingly. "Here, let's get this cleaned up. Everything is going to be okay."

Hannah re-appeared with the broom and dustpan. "Lisa, a party has just been seated in Christine's section. I can clean this up for her." She gave her co-worker a sympathetic look.

"Christine, are you sure you're ready to go back out there?" When the girl nodded, Lisa smiled encouragingly. "Good girl. Just put on a smile and don't let anything get to you."

_I can do this, _Christine told herself as she grabbed some menus and made her way to the table. _I can do- _Suddenly, she froze, the smile disappearing off her face. Sitting in the room in the room in the back corner was the same group of men who had been there with Mr. Buquet. The said man was sitting right in the middle of the table.

And, sitting at the far end of the table, was Erik.

"Hello, Christine!" Buquet said cheerfully, claiming her immediate attention.

She forced the smile back onto her face. "Good evening sir. May I take your drink orders for you, gentlemen?" Fortunately, all of them - except Erik - ordered alcohol, so she was able to hide in the kitchen while another waiter took the drinks to the table. She hadn't forgotten their conduct from their previous visit to the restaurant, and the last thing she wanted was an repeat of their treatment. She leaned against the counter as she tried to curb her ill-feelings towards her customers.

"Christine, they're ready to order," she heard. After taking one more deep breath - it would be the last one without Buquet-poluted air - she walked back towards the men.

"What would you like this evening?" she inquired politely. She could sense Erik's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. _It's his own fault. He shouldn't be so hard on me all of the time._

"I know what I would like," Buquet announced, "but I'm afraid it's not on this menu." Laughter resounded around the table, and Christine's face burned with shame. To make matters worse, Buquet's eyes were roaming across her figure. She bit her tongue for a few seconds to keep from screaming at him, and then said, "I don't have a menu that supplies that, sir. Perhaps you should try another restaurant that will better suit your taste." The men laughed again while Buquet's face turned scarlet with anger, but at least the laughter was on her side this time. She began recording their orders, and finally, she couldn't avoid looking at Erik any longer.

When Buquet had made the suggestive comment to Christine, Erik's first reaction was to Punjab him right then and there. How many times had he fantasized about breaking the man's no-good neck? This would give him the perfect motive. Wouldn't he be acting in the name of love? Still, he somehow didn't think Christine would want him to kill Buquet, even if she did think he was a selfish pig. His fists clenched, but relief filled him when she answered his hidden request with such an obvious refusal. That was one of the many remarkable traits about Christine: while most people would've lost their temper (himself included), she only became more distantly polite when someone treated her rudely. Truthfully, her methods suited her far better than hot words, for she robbed her opponent of words. Still, he could see she was shaken. He ordered his meal, and she quickly walked away.

Once Christine was out of sight of everyone else, she ran to the bathroom. Sinking into a chair in the bathroom lounge, she covered her face with her hands and started shaking with fury and repulsion.

_How DARE he? _she fumed silently. _He's absolutely disgusting! _She wished he'd made that statement in front of one of her fellow classmates so she would have some kind of concrete evidence against him. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about his looks and remarks. As usual, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She sat there for a long time before Hannah opened the door.

"There you ar- Why, Christine, what's wrong?" Instantly, she was sitting and had her arm around her.

Christine shook her head. "One of the customers is extremely rude," she explained. "I had to come in here and take a breather."

Hannah nodded understandingly. "Do we need to ask him to leave?"

"No. It's my job to serve him, so I'll just have to live with it." She squared her shoulders and left the refuge of the bathroom. She silently brought the group their meals, and she was equally silent when she gave Buquet the check. As they stood to leave, he approached her.

"Christine, you shouldn't be so shy," he playfully criticized. He'd met with Kasey and her attorney again earlier that day, and he was certainly not in the best of moods. He needed _something _to forget about her. "A little boldness can take you places." He winked, and she almost gagged. "The only places your kind of "boldness" will take me are places I don't want to go."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't forget I'm your professor."

"I'm not the one who has forgotten!" she retorted. "Now, I think it's time for you to leave. The door is that way." They glared at each other for a few moments, and then, Buquet shrugged. "It doesn't matter," he said as he meandered towards the door. "I always get what I want in the end." With those closing words, he left.

"_It doesn't matter. I always get what I want in the end." _That certainly sounded like a threat. She wiped off the table aggressively, not hearing the footsteps behind her.

"Christine, I-" Erik began. She looked at him sadly and sighed.

"Please, Erik. Just go." To her surprise, he left, leaving her alone in the shadows.

o0o

Two hours later, Christine was walking towards her car when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth.

"Don't scream; it's only me," a voice murmured soothingly into her ear. Wide, terrified eyes recognized Erik. Instantly, she relaxed in relief. He took his hand away from her mouth.

"Are you _trying _to give me a heart-attack?" she demanded.

He chuckled. "I would hope that you would believe me above such juvenile ideas."

She glanced around the empty, dark parking lot nervously. Being in parking lots at night had made her feel uneasy for as long as she could remember. "Well, what _do _you want? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"

He looked away for a moment, and then his eyes met hers. She took a step back, startled. Fury was burning in his eyes. She'd never seen him so angry.

"Christine… are you alright?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean am I alright?"

"Don't smart-off to me. You know exactly what I'm referring to, and I need to know."

She looked down, and her voice sounded so small. "It was humiliating. I feel… I feel so… so _dirty. _I haven't led him on or anything! He just won't leave me alone! Why won't he leave me alone?" Finally, the stress of the day caught up to her, and she broke down and started sobbing. "What does he want from me? It's _sick, _just sick!"

Erik slowly put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. "It's not your fault, Christine. Joseph Buquet is a terrible man." _He's a terrible man whom I'm going to watch die a slow, painful death._

She pulled away slightly and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I've… This has _not _been a good day."

He smiled gently. "Go home and sleep, Christine. You need to rest," he murmured into her hair. She nodded but didn't move. At that moment, she forgot he became angry with her easily. She forgot he'd stripped her of her free will. All she knew was that she'd been hurting, and like an angel, he'd taken the hurt away. And, for the first time, she felt safe in a parking lot.

Not even Erik knew that they had two spectators. One was watching with silent horror.

The other was seething with hatred. Joseph Buquet had suspected that Erik had feelings for the girl, and now, his suspicions were being confirmed. _So, that's why you are eluding me, Christine. But, I told you that I always get what I want, and I _will _have you, even if it leaves you broken._

o0o

Erik sat at his organ later that night, composing. He couldn't take any action against Buquet… at least, not _yet. _So, he turned to his beloved _Don Juan_, which he'd somewhat abandoned of late. It wasn't intentional; he'd been rather distracted. While Christine filled him with inspiration, it wasn't the type of inspiration he needed for his opera. _Don Juan _burned like a fierce flame from hell. It had been his sanctuary throughout the years. He would work on it for days at a time without eating nor sleeping, and then, he would put it away for months or years before bringing it out again. And, _Don Juan _embraced him every time with its seductive darkness.

Suddenly, his muscles tensed. "Daroga, don't you know better than to come where you are not invited?" he asked without turning around.

"How did you know I was there?" The middle-aged Persian stepped into the light.

"I can guarantee that my organ does not sound like coughing."

Nadir Khan rolled his eyes. He should have known that Erik would hear even the slightest sound. He'd certainly known him long enough to know that much about the masked man: nothing went unnoticed by him.

"Why are you here?" Erik demanded.

"I want to talk to you about Christine Daaë." There was no point in him trying to deny it; Erik could sense any type of falsehood.

"What about her?" Nadir winced. His tone was already dangerous. _This could get ugly very fast. _"Please, Erik, leave her alone. She's only a child. You have no reason to hurt her."

In one motion, Erik leapt from the organ bench and was three inches away from his face. _"Hurt _her?" he hissed, outraged. "All I have done has been to help her! I would _never _hurt Christine! I offered her voice lessons, and she accepted. Not even you can argue against that, my dear Daroga."

The Persian shook his head. "I fear for her, Erik. What are your plans for the girl?"

"I will _never _hurt Christine," Erik repeated softly. "As for my plans, they are not your concern. Christine is not your concern either, for that matter."

Nadir knew it was time to leave. He reached the door and paused. "I will be back, Erik," he promised.

"I advise that you don't if you want to live."

The older man smiled slightly. That's how their meetings went: Nadir would poke his nose into Erik's business, Erik would threaten to kill him if he invaded his privacy again, and the cycle went round and round. "I'll take that into consideration," was his simple reply. He shut the door behind him.

As he started his car, he thought about the situation with Miss Daaë. It didn't take him very long to decide to keep an eye on her. _With Erik, you never know what will happen._

**Posted: August 21, 2010**


	8. Worry

**Chapter Seven: Worry**

Christine entered her house late after a long night of work. As she entered the kitchen to find something to eat, she spotted her father sitting in one of the chairs. His head was on the table, and his deep breathing told her he was sleeping. A stack of papers and an empty plate sat in front of him. Quietly, she took the plate off the table to wash and walked towards the sink.

"Why?" She turned, but her father's head was still resting against the table and his eyes were still closed.

"Why?" he asked again in his sleep. "Why did you leave me alone, Kathryn?"

Pain shot through Christine's heart. _You aren't alone! _She wanted to cry. Her father wasn't the only one who still mourned for Kathryn; she missed her mother, too. Each day, it seemed her father grew more out of her reach. Silver was already combining with his brown hair at his hairline, and his face bore the lines of a man who was ten years older.

Gently, she shook his shoulders. Instantly, he was upright, looking around as though disoriented. Then, his eyes focused on Christine. "Oh… you're home. What time is it?"

"It's past eleven," she informed him. He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands, moaning "I need to finish this…"

"You need to go to bed, Dad."

"I won't have my own daughter telling me what I need to do," he said irritably.

Christine bit her lip worriedly. What could she do? She knew her father was working too hard, but she also knew he wouldn't listen to her even if what she was saying was for his own good.

"If you're sure…" she replied reluctantly.

"You don't have to worry about me, Christine," he told her gruffly. Then, he added, "You go on and go to sleep. You need rest."

Once she was in her room, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Slowly, she was losing her father. Yet, he was too blind to see what he was doing to himself… to both of them. And, despite his claim that she didn't have to worry about him, she was very worried.

o0o

The next day, she was in the campus café, looking for a place to sit. As she searched the room, her gaze fell on Raoul. The seat across from him at his booth was unoccupied. Well, since the shop was crowded, she would sit with him. After all, she needed to interact with someone after worrying so much, and she hadn't forgotten the kindness he'd shown her when she was upset over her music lesson. Thus, she made her way towards him.

"Hey, you."

Raoul looked up from his seat. To his surprise, Christine was standing over him with a drink in her hand.

"Hi," he managed. She laughed and gestured towards the seat across from him. "Mind if I join you?" she asked pleasantly. He nodded, still somewhat shocked, and she slid into the booth. As she placed a score of music on the table, Raoul leaned forward to see it better.

"Rigoletto?" _That _was most unusual. The vast majority of students – especially those involved in the music program – held an appreciation for _Broadway _musicals, but never had he encountered one who studied opera. Raoul wasn't particularly interested in opera himself, but he admired Christine's interest in it just the same.

"My teacher wants me to memorize some of the arias for my lessons," she explained.

"Oh." _Him _again. Casually, he asked, "So, how long have you been taking voice lessons?"

"About two months now, I guess," she replied guardedly. He decided to try his luck and push further. "How did you come to into contact with him? You told me he isn't affiliated with the university."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to know?" she demanded testily.

He put his hands up in apology. "I'm just curious, that's all."

With a sigh, she looked away for a moment. "Don't ask me about him, Raoul."

"Why not?"

"It's none of your business, that's why!" _Why can't he just drop it? This is the _last _thing I need right now. Blast you, Erik; I wish you wouldn't make me be so secretive and socially awkward!_

"Okay," he relented with a shrug. She smiled, but she had a feeling he wasn't really letting it go. _I'll have to learn how to change topics in a way he won't notice._

"So, why don't you tell me about yourself?" she suggested. After all, who didn't like to talk about themselves? However, what began as a desperate topic change for Christine soon had her complete attention. Raoul was smart, funny, and ambitious. Also, he had a way of making people feel comfortable. Around him, she could almost forget her worries.

"What about you?" he wanted to know. "What kind of career are you pursuing?"

"Hopefully, I'll be able to pursue a music career."

"Do you want to sing, play an instrument, or be a music teacher?" he asked, interested. "I mean, I know you're in the choir, but that's required for all music majors during their freshman year."

"I don't play an instrument, but I love to sing." She ran her finger along the rim of her cup, wondering how much she should tell him. While he seemed encouraging and kind, her own father was always too busy for her. She certainly didn't want to bore the one person who appeared to care about what she had to say. "I do like being a part of the choir, though," she said finally. With a smile, she added, "At least, I like it for the most part."

He laughed. "Carlotta, right?"

Christine returned his laugh. "I'm not saying."

"She's hard to work with, but don't let her get to you," he advised knowingly. Then, "Well, speaking of the devil…"

She turned and saw Carlotta entering the café. "Oh, great," she muttered. To her horror, Carlotta spotted them and started walking in their direction.

"Every other seat seems to be taken," she said, flashing a large smile at Raoul. "May I sit with you?"

"Of course," he replied politely. She sat next to him, smirking ever so slightly at Christine.

"You are doing well, I hope?" Raoul inquired in that same polite tone that clearly stated I'm-really-not-interested-but-I-was-raised-to-be-nice-to-people-like-you. But, Carlotta – never being analytical – didn't notice the good manners that would have made any parent proud.

"I'm doing quite well, thank you," she answered in what was supposed to be a sweet voice.

_She sounds like a spider trying to tempt a fly with honey to become trapped in her web, _Christine thought, barely repressing a snort.

"Of course," the diva continued, "being in so many productions is tiresome, but I'm dedicated to my art."

Christine couldn't stand it any longer. "Ah, so you're participating in productions outside of the university?" she asked, her eyes wide with mock innocence.

"No," Carlotta snapped, annoyed that Christine had entered the conversation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was only wondering because you said you were participating in _so many _productions, but… well, the university only gives two performances per semester."

Raoul, who was taking a sip of his drink, nearly choked as he started laughing. Carlotta's eyes hatefully narrowed as Christine replicated the smirk she'd been given earlier.

"You don't have to work very hard, my dear girl. Your parts are usually quite small, are they not?"

"True," Christine replied with playful humility, "but like you said, I too am dedicated to my art."

Enraged at being presented with someone who could calmly and lightheartedly take her insults, Carlotta stood and left booth. However, as she hurried towards the door, she collided into an unsuspecting waiter. She shrieked as the food from the waiter's tray crashed into her. People inside the café ceased their conversations as the girl had a hissy-fit in front of everyone.

"I'm so sorry," the poor waiter apologized as he gathered the broken dishes off the ground. "I didn't see you!"

With a scream of fury, Carlotta stood and left the building, leaving a group of very amused college students behind her.

Raoul and Christine made eye contact for one moment and burst out laughing. Finally, when they'd reached a point to where they had tears in their eyes, Raoul managed to say as he gasped for air, "That… that was… the _funniest _thing I have…seen in a long time!"

Christine grinned. "You know what they say: pride comes before the fall… literally!" That set them off again. During those moments of laughter, Christine forgot about all of her troubles. At that moment, all she knew was the pleasant sensation of laughing so hard that your stomach hurts.

o0o

Nadir blinked several times, forcing his tired eyes to focus. Stacks of paper sat on the table in front of him… stacks of papers that contained information about Christine Daaë.

According to his research, she was a fairly average college student. Yes, she was very pretty, but he highly doubted that would be enough to draw Erik's interest. Erik was a dangerous man, a cold-blooded killer… Yet, he hadn't always been that way… he had been sane, once… he had almost been like any other human being.

_Erik stormed around his apartment, fuming._

_"What more does she want from me?" He kicked over a chair as Nadir watched. "Is it not enough that I spend hours upon hours entertaining her?"_

_ Nadir shook his head. "Erik, she's the __khanum, the most powerful woman in the empire. To disobey her is to die."_

_ "I won't have it, I tell you!" He moaned and put his head in his hands. "I suppose she couldn't be satisfied with me as an inventor and magician. No, she now wants me to kill as well."_

_ "The man is a murderer, Erik; he would be executed anyway –"_

_ "Ah, but I am no executioner!" the man cried. "Nadir… can't you see how I'm cursed?"_

_ "Nothing can be done, Erik," the Persian said softly._

_ "I know," Erik replied with a sigh. "I have been damned from the very beginning…"_

_o0o_

_ "Erik, what is that?" Nadir asked in horror several months later._

_ "Come and see, Daroga!" the masked man cried with glee. He showed the Persian the blueprints of a very elaborate torture machine. _

_ "You can't possibly be serious, Erik!"_

_ "And, why not? After all, didn't you give your blessing when I told you of my new occupation as palace executioner?"_

_ "But, you didn't enjoy it then! Putting murderers and other vile criminals to death is one thing, but this… this is inhumane! It's cruel!"_

_ The masked man laughed, causing his friend to shudder. Erik's laugh was chilling, as it dangerously bordered between despair and insanity. It was the sound a demon might utter before being cast into the pits of eternal punishment. Ever since he'd been forced to invent new and painful methods of execution solely for the entertainment of the khanum, he'd slowly but gradually become one who enjoyed causing others suffering. He'd been transformed from a man into a monster._

_ "Life is cruel, Daroga," Erik hissed. "It goes something like the old adage 'Life's not fair,' does it not?"_

_ Nadir could only stare back in disbelief. "How can you enjoy killing others, Erik?"_

_ "I _am _death," Erik replied, laughing like a madman again. I live with death; I'm surrounded by death… Death is within me! Or, have you not seen my face? It wasn't enough for the khanum for me to look like death; I have now become death! No more light for Erik! The dark is the only woman that has ever embraced me, and I gladly welcome her loving arms!"_

Nadir shook his head. That was so long ago. No one could save Erik now. Still, he would do whatever he could to save Christine Daaë, even if that meant facing Death himself.

**Posted: September 3, 2010**


	9. Distractions

**Chapter Eight: Distractions**

**Yay! So, you guys should be proud of me because this was definitely a faster post. *happy dance* That being said, I think all of you should reward me with more reviews than I can read. Hmmm... yep, that sounds like a good idea to me! :)  
**

Christine groaned as her phone rang. _I guess that's it for my afternoon nap, _she thought to herself. Groping towards her nightstand, she finally managed to pick up her cell phone. She looked at the contact ID. _Raoul de Chagny. _Sitting up, she placed the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Christine, this is Raoul."

_No kidding, _she thought, smiling. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee or something? I found a book on operas, and since you're learning _Rigoletto,_ I thought you might find it interesting."

She checked her watch, which told her that her voice lesson would start in a couple of hours. She'd be pushing her luck to be on time, and Erik would be furious if she was late. Still, she had a great desire to see this book, and anyway, she wouldn't mind spending some more time with Raoul. He was turning out to be a good friend, as he always knew exactly what to say.

"Sure," told him. "Do you want to meet at the Starbucks on Ashley Avenue?"

"That sounds good. See you soon."

"Okay, bye." After hanging up, she rolled out of bed and walked over to her closet. What did she have that was decent to wear? She rummaged through her clothes until she came across a navy dress. She stopped. Did it really matter what she looked like? She was only going out for coffee with Raoul and to borrow a book. He was only a friend, right? Was she becoming attracted to him? Maybe. With a slight smile, she hurriedly put on the dress and left to go meet Raoul, regardless of her possible feelings for him.

o0o

She ran through the building, panicking. Oh, _how _could she have lost track of time? She'd been having such a good time talking to Raoul and playfully arguing over music preferences as they read the book. Then, she'd glanced at her watch, and she realized she was already late for her voice lesson. With a quick apology for leaving so suddenly, she quickly left.

As she stumbled into the classroom door, she saw Erik standing with his back facing her. He turned upon hearing her disheveled entrance and gasps for air.

"Ah, good evening, Christine," he purred. "Why are you so out-of-breath? Here, come sit down." Walking towards her, he took her arm and led her to a chair. "Now, perhaps you should tell Erik why you were exerting yourself?"

She groaned. Erik speaking in third person was never good news for her. "I was running late, Erik. I'm sorry; the traffic was ridiculous."

He chuckled at her pitiful attempts to lie. "Christine, Christine, surely you know better than to try to lie to Erik?" He made soft _tsking _sounds with his tongue and shook his head sadly.

"I'm not lying!" Christine protested, annoyed.

"Why, Christine, aren't we looking lovely this evening!" He cocked his head, examining her, and admired the rise of color in her cheeks. "To be sure, you've never before dressed up so for your lessons. What, pray tell, is the special occasion?" He sniffed and smelled perfume, and he raised his visible eyebrow. "Also, I believe this is the first time you've ever taken the time to apply perfume before a lesson."

She was defeated. Wincing, she said, "Fine, Erik; I went out for coffee with a friend. That's why I'm late."

"Good girl; I knew you would tell me the truth eventually." He sauntered over to her. "Now, which friend, Christine?"

She froze. "Does it really matter?"

"Oh, it matters more than you realize. Tell me… who were you with? And, please don't insult either of us by lying again. I know you were with a man. If you were going out with Meg Giry, you wouldn't have needed to wear the pretty dress. Now, _who is he, Christine?" _He hissed the last words as he leaned in and placed both hands on the arms of her chair. She blinked, disoriented, as his dark eyes intently stared into hers. His eyes were flecked with gold; she'd never noticed that before now. He hummed softly, putting her in a trance-like state. _"Christine…" _he whispered, caressing her name. "Tell me… who is he?"

"Ummm… Raoul," she answered quickly. "Raoul de Chagny."

He stepped away from her then, and the spell was broken. Christine shook her head, trying to rid it of the cobwebs that lingered from Erik's trance. When she remembered what she'd told him, she raised her head in horror. Erik was watching her with his arms crossed.

"Christine," he began smoothly. "I think it would be best if you stopped spending time with Mr. de Changy."

With a cry of protest, she rose, but he gently pushed her back down into her seat. "Shhh, it's alright, Christine," he said soothingly. "I'm only doing what's best for you. How can you expect to focus on your singing if you keep running around with that young man? Now that I think about it," he mused, "I don't want you to be involved with any man. Romantic relationships are strictly off-limits."

"You have no right," Christine whispered, her eyes shining strangely. He leaned closer and saw tears. Did she really care for the boy that much, then? Anger swelled within him, though he managed to conceal it.

"I think you'll find that I do, in fact, have the right," he countered, his eyes narrowing. "The last thing you need is for… _distractions,_" he spat the word, "to interfere with the golden opportunity you have. Remember, Christine, that you accepted my offer to teach you, and since I'm your teacher, I _will _have my way. Is that understood?"

Both of them stared into each other's eyes. Both were silently pleading with the other, but only one of them yielded. "I understand," Christine stated clearly, her tone cold.

Erik breathed a sigh of relief. "Now," he said pleasantly, "let us sing. I think you will find this aria particularly suited to your voice…" So, the lesson went on as well as it could under the circumstances.

Afterwards, Christine sat in her car, recapping what had just taken place. Erik had forbidden her to continue her friendship with Raoul. How preposterous was that? Was she not allowed to have a life besides music? She was supposed to meet Raoul for dinner, but now, she would have to cancel and pretend to be jerk.

_I guess I am a jerk for accepting Erik's conditions, _she pondered. Angry tears filled her eyes again. It wasn't so much that she was heart-broken over Raoul, although she certainly didn't want to end their friendship. No, what made her upset was the fact that Erik was discrediting her freedom. She was a person who liked to have her own opinions and make her own choices, and he had just violated her rights. Part of her wanted to march back into the classroom and tell him to forget the music lessons and his stupid conventions.

_Priorities, Christine, _the logical side of her reasoned. _You have to remember your priorities. _She exhaled angrily. As enraged as she was, her career – and in some ways, her life – depended upon Erik's tutorage. So, that meant she would have to comply with his rules… for now.

She smiled humorlessly. _Once I have a career and won't need Erik's lessons anymore, I can have my own life. After all, as Erik would say, I won't need distractions. I'll apologize to Raoul and we can be friends again. _Decided, she pulled out of the parking lot. Erik would learn soon enough that he'd met his match and he couldn't have everything his own way.

o0o

Erik pounded his fist against the wall in frustration. "Are you sure?" he hissed.

"Sir, we haven't found a single trace of the papers. The hidden cameras were disabled, which means that we have no idea of who the perpetrator is or if he had accomplices."

"Well, look harder! And, make sure that none of the other workers start asking questions."

"Yes sir. I'll keep you posted." With that, the phone call ended.

Erik groaned and sank to his chair. Over two months had passed, and the files _still _hadn't been recovered. The situation should have been resolved weeks ago, but he'd been distracted with Christine's lessons. Then, as time passed, not only were the lessons distracting, but Christine herself had become an obsession to him. As much as it angered and frustrated him, she invaded his mind.

_Why am I obsessed with her? _he asked himself furiously. Throughout his entire life, everyone had shunned him. Yet, somehow, not only had she interacted with him multiple times, but she even agreed to take voice lessons from him! Most people would simply call it foolishness, but Erik… he chose to hope. Something within him drove him to protect her as her own father should have done. He'd accepted a life of solitude long ago, but Christine needed someone to confide in, to reassure her when storm cloud gathered overhead.

And, her voice! While she needed training, Erik had never heard such raw talent in another human being. Her voice inspired him, awakening thousands of melodies in his head. Now, he needed her voice to be his, to possess it.

_The boy. _Frustration surged through him again. Never had the actions of another filled him with so much antagonism, not even during his time in Persia. But, when Christine had been late for her lesson and he'd seen how she was all dressed up to meet with _that boy, _he'd lost it. At the beginning, he wouldn't have cared so much if she was attracted to another; it would've been enough for him to admire her from afar and train her voice. Yet, when she lied again and again to protect her little _friend, _he'd snapped and ordered her to stop spending time with him. Oh, Erik was a selfish man; he'd never denied that, and he always had what he wanted. Even his motives for being so controlling over Christine, however, confused him. All he knew was that he couldn't just stand by and watch her fall in love with someone else. She was _his, _and he wasn't the type to share what belonged to him.

Suddenly, a thought rose in his mind. What if he never had to be without her voice again? What if he stole her away and kept her with him always?

Just as he contemplated the idea, another thought occurred to him. If he took Christine out of the world, she would be furious. He wasn't so sure she would be willing to forgive him. Surely the idea was madness!

But… perhaps not? Christine wasn't appreciated by anyone save himself. Her own father refused to acknowledge her existence! She needed him. Oh, she didn't realize it yet, but it was true. She was starving for attention, for affection. And, he could give her everything in the world: music, books, wealth, knowledge… love.

_Love?_

He stopped his rapid planning, stunned. Did he love her? Ever since he'd met her, he'd dismissed his feelings towards her as fascination and obsession. But, love? Love was different. He truly desired her, and not only in a physical sense. He wanted to know the secrets she kept in her mind, her thoughts, her dreams, and her desires. She had completely consumed him; every moment was centered on her.

Erik had never believed in love, at least not concerning himself. For years, he'd watched as people fought with their spouses, divorced, and even murdered one another. It drove him mad. They had every opportunity to have happiness, _to live a normal life, _and they threw it all away. How he would give anything for a normal face, for a normal life!

Then, Christine entered his life. Quietly, unexpectedly, she tiptoed in, and with one note, everything he'd so firmly believed in regarding life became hazy. Her laugh, her smile, _her voice, _were so uniquely a part of her_. _His little protégé was special. She was someone who'd experienced all of the pain in the world but could still give a dry smile and say, "Is that the best you can do?" Admiration had turned into obsession, and now… he loved her.

He rushed over to his organ. A score from his beloved opera, _Don Juan Triumphant, _was waiting for him. He caressed the pages reverently. During the majority of his life, _Don Juan _was his sole companion, and he worshipped it much like Pygmalion worshipped his marble statue. That, however, was about to change. "Soon, you shall have a mistress," he promised tenderly, and then, he smiled. Yes… soon, he would no longer be alone.

**Posted on September 9, 2010**


	10. Betrayal

**Chapter Nine: Betrayal**

**And, it's ANOTHER chapter in less than a week! Reward me, please? Just push that little button that says "review" and leave a comment! )**

"That's absurd!"

Mr. Buquet's attorney grabbed his client by the sleeve and yanked it down, forcing him to return to his seat. Kasey, who was sitting across the table, rolled her eyes. "Don't have a temper-tantrum, Joseph."

"There's no way on earth you're getting my house!"

His notary cut in smoothly. "Please, Mr. Buquet; let's discuss this rationally."

Buquet's face turned bright red. "My wife cheats on me with my brother, files for divorce, and tries to take my home… and you're telling _me _to be rational?"

Kasey's lawyer shook his head. "But, is it not true that you're in debt, Mr. Buquet?"

"How is that relevant?" Buquet demanded.

"Joseph, you can't afford the house," Kasey explained. "I'm doing you a favor."

"A favor?" The man had reached his breaking point. He jumped to his feet, leaned across the table, and snarled, "Don't patronize me, Kasey. If you're going to sleep around with other men - yes, I know my brother isn't the first - then don't come in here like you're a glorified saint. Own up to your actions."

"Don't pretend to be a victim," Kasey snapped. "You've ignored me for _years! _What was I supposed to do, stay at home and obey your every whim?"

The two attorneys exchanged a glance, and Kasey's rose. "I think this is enough for one day. I suggest that we all go home, calm down," he gave Buquet a meaningful look, "and schedule another day to meet." Kasey quickly voiced her agreement and left the office. In a matter of moments, Buquet and his legal representative were alone.

"Joseph," the man began, patting Buquet's shoulder sympathetically. "I know this must be stressful for you, but you have to stop letting it get to you. Why don't you just say 'good riddance' and let it go?"

Buquet turned and stared out the window. "I can't just let it go," he said with a touch of remorse. "I wish I could, but I can't."

o0o

"That's absurd!"

Christine winced and looked around quickly, relieved that no one was staring at them after Meg's outburst. "Shhh, Meg, please…"

"I don't care, Christine! That guy is psycho if he's going to tell you who you can and can't spend your free time with; it's called _free time _for a reason."

"He just doesn't want me to lose focus," the brunette explained.

"Lose focus my butt!" Meg made a disgusted noise. "Chris, you're way too gullible. The _only _reason this guy is keeping you from Raoul is because he's jealous."

Christine raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And, pray tell, why exactly would he be jealous?"

Meg groaned in frustration. "He _likes _you, Christine! _That's _why he doesn't want you to spend time with Raoul!"

"Yeah. Sure. Of course." Christine commented sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"Think about it, Chris." Meg scooted closer. "He doesn't mind if you hang-out with me. He doesn't seem to care when we go to the mall or a movie with a group of girls during weekends. However, he _does _mind when you go grab a frappuccino at Starbucks with a _guy_… and he minds so much that he tells you not to see that guy - or any guy, for that matter - again." She glanced towards the door and smirked. "Well, well, well… speaking of he-who-must-not-be-noticed…"

Before Christine could turn, a cheerful voice that she recognized far too easily spoke. "Hey, guys! Mind if I join you?"

_Really? _Christine silently asked, irritated. _Nothing ever goes my way, does it?_

"Go ahead," Meg said sweetly, smirking again when Christine glared at her.

"Actually," she counter-acted, "I have to be going. It was good to see you, Raoul. I'll talk to you later, Meg," she added as a threat. Hurriedly, she left.

Raoul watched her go with a confused look on his face. "What's up with her? She's been acting really strange lately. She won't respond to my calls, she acts like I'm not there…" He turned to the blond who was still sitting at the table. "Did I say or do something to upset her? Is she angry at me?"

Meg shook her head. "I don't think so," she said cautiously, not sure how much she should reveal. To her surprise, his eyes narrowed. "It's that music teacher of hers, isn't it?" he challenged.

She raised her hands in a defensive gesture. "If you want my advice, it would be best if you go talk to her. As for me," she continued, cutting off whatever he was about to say, "I can't say anything else. Christine is my best-friend, and I'm not going to talk about her."

Raoul nodded. "Thanks." Instantly, he rushed out of the café.

Meg placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. _I hope to goodness this ends all of the drama, _she said to herself. More than anything, she hoped all of the conflict would be resolved and her best-friend's life could be normal again.

o0o

_Where is she? _Raoul wondered. He'd searched for Christine everywhere: the auditorium, the classrooms, the campus store… everywhere except the ladies' restroom, and he wasn't about to go looking in there. Although he called her on his cell phone several times, he wasn't at all surprised when she didn't answer. He was pretty much used to hearing her answering machine by now.

Then, the realization hit him hard. _Of course… the library! _All but running through the hallways, he reached the campus library… and lo and behold, Christine was sitting near the front, comfortably curled up in a chair with a book. He walked over and crouched next to her.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" he whispered.

Not looking up from her book, she simply replied, "Oh?"

"You've been avoiding me."

Finally, she lowered her book and looked at him. "What gave it away?" she answered coolly. Rising, she started to walk away. Raoul followed her as she walked between some shelves, which gave them a bit more privacy.

"What's going on?" he demanded. She went up on her toes to replace her book. _How can I break this to him without him becoming upset? _she wondered. The odds of him taking the news calmly didn't seem to be in her favor. She turned to face him and took a deep breath. "I can't see you anymore, Raoul."

He stared at her. Surely she was joking! But, when her expression remained serious, he asked, "What do you mean, you can't see me anymore?"

_Let's make this as difficult as possible, shall we? _"I mean I can't spend time with you." She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm.

"This is about those stupid music lessons, isn't it?"

Christine's eyes flashed dangerously. "They're _not _stupid. I just don't need to lose focus, and…"

"Did _he _tell you that?" His grip tightened, and his voice rose. "Why doesn't he stop treating you like a little kid? What's his problem?"

"If you two don't be quiet, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Both turned, shocked, and saw the librarian standing there, arms crossed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Raoul told her sheepishly. "We'll use our inside-voices." Christine snorted, and that set the two of them off laughing. The librarian walked away, muttering grumpily, adding to their amusement. Christine leaned against the bookshelf, trying to catch her breath. Raoul relaxed and grinned, thankful for the change in atmosphere. _Maybe she'll be reasonable and listen to me now._

"Really, Christine," he began. "How is he going to know who you spend time with? Besides, isn't that _your _call to make?" He put his hand by her cheek hesitantly, conflict evident in his face. Then, he gently touched his fingers to her cheek. "I like you a lot, Christine," he confessed. "I don't want to go without ever seeing you again. And, I know you don't want that, either."

_You know he's right, _her inner voice remarked. _Why should you let Erik control your life? He'll never know. _She looked at him, considering his words, and sighed. "You're right," she admitted. He smiled hugely, and she laughed quietly. "I do have one condition, though."

"Name it," he said eagerly.

She pursed her lips, hoping he wouldn't take her next words the wrong way. "We _have _to keep this on the down-low; I don't want to have to give up my music lessons. Eventually, it won't matter because I'll be able to stop taking the lessons, but for now, this is how it has to be." She gazed into his eyes steadily. "Okay?"

He smiled that charming smile again. "Your wish is my command," he promised, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

"A-_hem!_" The same librarian was watching them. "I'm warning you two…"

"Alright, alright, we're leaving," Raoul interrupted. Taking Christine's hand in his, he led her out the door before the librarian could scold them again. Like the children they were, they erupted into laughter as soon as they were outside of the confines of the library. Christine noticed that their hands were still joined, and she gently freed her hand from his. Raoul smiled ruefully but put his hand by his side. "Shall we find somewhere that doesn't restrict people from laughing?" he inquired with mock seriousness.

"Yes, I believe we shall." As they walked off together, Christine felt happy… except for the nagging that she in her heart.

o0o

A few days later, Raoul was walking Christine to her door after they had seen a movie when he suddenly said, "I want to meet your dad."

Christine's hand froze on the doorknob. "Ummm… I don't think that's a good idea, Raoul."

He looked hurt. "Why not? Don't you think your dad should be introduced to your boyfriend?"

_Boyfriend. _The edges of her lips curved upwards at the word. "My dad… well, he's not the most social person." _That's a big understatement, _she thought a little bitterly.

"All the same, I'd still like to meet him," Raoul insisted, his eyes searching her face. "Unless you mind?"

He had her there. Trying to keep from making a face, she opened the door and stepped aside so he could enter. Taking his hand, she led him to her father's study. Sure enough, Mr. Daaë was sitting at his desk. _Does he ever take a break? _She cleared her throat, and he looked up. "Dad," she started nervously. Raoul squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'd like you to meet Raoul de Chagny… my boyfriend."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," said Raoul, extending his hand.

Mr. Daaë didn't shake his hand or even rise from his chair. "Boyfriend?" he echoed, an odd look on his face.

"Yes, Dad," Christine answered patiently. Raoul lowered his hand and looked at her, unsure of how to proceed. She shook her head, and he took the hint.

"Well, I'd best be going. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Daaë." He turned and walked towards the door, Christine escorting him.

"Oh, my gosh… Raoul, I'm so sorry!" she moaned.

"Hey, it's okay," he told her soothingly. He pulled her close and her head rested against his chest. She wrapped his arms around him and closed her eyes as he comforted her. "We'll just have to work on it."

That was one of the biggest things she loved about Raoul. He didn't take "no" for an answer; he always remained optimistic and persevered. As she opened her eyes, she saw a flash of gold in the darkness by the bushes. A shiver went down her spine, and she pulled back from Raoul abruptly.

"It's cold," she muttered. "I need to go to bed; I have a Spanish exam in the morning."

Raoul smiled understandingly. "Sweet dreams, Christine," he said. Then, after kissing her cheek, he left.

Christine wrapped her arms around herself as she stared into the darkness. Though she tried, she couldn't see the golden glow she saw mere moments ago. _Calm down, _she reprimanded herself. _It couldn't have been him. _Shuddering one last time, she re-entered her house and marched back into the study. Her father was still there, once more engrossed in his work.

"You could have made an effort, you know," she said accusingly.

"You're too young to have a boyfriend, Christine," her dad rejoined without looking up.

"Dad, I'm not too young! I'm nineteen years old!" she protested.

"What would your mother say?"

"Mom would like Raoul! Don't even try to make this about her. _Look at me!_"

Mr. Daaë finally raised his eyes to meet hers. Trying to control her shaking, she continued. "I know you miss mom; I miss her, too. But, you have to stop letting her memory torment you. I'm still here." Her voice broke, and tears streamed down her face. "I'm still here, Dad. Don't you care?"

He stared at her as though she was a ghost, pain carved into his face. Longing to fix matters between them, she stepped forward to embrace him like she had when she was a little girl. "Go… to your room, he whispered."

She stopped, horrified. In that moment, she knew: _I'll never be able to reach him. _Without another word, she turned and fled the room. She didn't stop until she threw herself onto her bed, collapsing into sobs.

o0o

Erik watched her as she cried, the anger slowly ebbing from him. As much as it infuriated him to see her disobey him and to allow the boy to kiss her - even if it _was _on the cheek - it bothered him more to see the tears on her face and hear her heart-wrenching sobs. Oh, she would still have to be punished; her disobedience insulted and incensed him, but right now, she was a helpless child again… a helpless child who needed him.

He waited until she went into the bathroom, and then, he crept over to her nightstand. A cup of water sat on it, and he slipped a pill into the cup. Then, returning to his hiding place, he watched while she gradually grew sleepy and then became unconscious. Again, he silently entered her bedroom and sat on her bed. He tenderly lifted her slightly until she her head was resting against his chest. He closed his eyes and pulled her close to him. Normally, such close contact with his angel would make him smile… but he couldn't rejoice now knowing that she was betraying him.

_My Christine… _he inwardly mourned. He didn't only mourn for himself; he also mourned for her. _What am I going to do? _he asked himself. Nothing was going to be the same, for Christine had changed everything with that one seemingly innocent kiss.

**Posted on September 12, 2010**


	11. Plans

**Go check out my latest story, _In Dreams, He Came. _The more you guys review, the faster I'll post, I promise. Hope you enjoy this chapter! **

**Chapter Ten: Plans**

Needless to say, Christine wasn't in the best of moods the following morning. The conversation with her father replayed in her mind over and over again. Unfortunately, she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice when her Spanish class was dismissed. She remained at her desk, never realizing that Mr. Buquet was approaching her.

"What is it, Miss Daaë? Could you not bear to leave me?"

The fog in her brain dissolved, and she saw that Mr. Buquet was standing directly beside her. Fighting the urge to cringe, she grabbed her textbook and hurriedly replied, "No." But, before she could make her escape, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You seem to be having trouble, Christine," the revolting man stated. "Your grades are dropping, too."

"I'll work harder," the girl answered, wishing he would release her arm. His grip was starting to hurt her.

"What if I offered you the chance to do some extra-credit work?'

Christine was no fool; she sensed some kind of double-meaning in his supposedly kind words. "What kind of extra-credit work?" she asked suspiciously.

The professor's hand lightly traced her jaw line, and she froze. "It won't take much. All you would have to do is meet me here tonight." His fingers moved to her neck, and she violently pushed him away. When he merely laughed and took another step towards her, she slapped his face with all of the strength her arm possessed. He stopped and glared at her while a red mark became visible on his cheek.

"That was not very wise, my dear," he said, his voice ice-cold.

"You are disgusting," she hissed. "_Never _touch me again. I'm going to report you to the board so you can't continue to manipulate your students. You… you wicked man!"

Buquet laughed again. "Thank you, Christine; that is the best compliment you could have given me. But, oh, you don't even know how very wicked I can be." He took a step forward, and all of Christine's senses fled. She turned and ran out of the classroom, wishing she could scream but unable to find her voice. _Why does this have to be the last class of the day? _She tore through the hallways and didn't stop running until she ran into something solid. With a cry of terror, she began beating at the object, her heart racing with the need to escape.

"Christine! Stop!" said the solid object, grabbing her fists. She stopped and stared at it, bewildered… and realized she had been beating against Raoul. "Oh, Raoul!" she sobbed. Instantly, his arms were around her, holding her close and soothing her. She buried her face against his chest and held onto his jacket with her hands as she cried. Raoul looked up and saw Buquet watching them, an obvious sneer on his face. He slowly backed away, never taking his eyes off the young couple. Raoul returned his stare until the vile professor was out of sight.

"Christine," he began, pulling her back slightly so he could see her face. "What happened?"

The poor girl shuddered in fear and shook her head wildly. "No, Raoul… please no…"

"Did that… that _creep _hurt you?" he demanded, his patience waning.

She shook her head once again. "No, Raoul, he didn't hurt me," she answered in a small voice. Raoul didn't believe her, but he humored her by embracing her again and stroking her hair with his fingers. Once her sobs had subsided, he tenderly wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Are you okay?" he inquired in a gentle tone.

"Yes, I'm alright. I… I need to go by the office and talk to one of the board members."

"Christine, the office closes at 5:00. You know that."

Ice trickled down her spine at the thought of going another day with Buquet as a professor, but there wasn't anything she could do. "Oh. Well, I can always drop by tomorrow. I guess I should go to work now."

Worry creased his brow. "Are you sure? Couldn't you call in sick or something?"

"I couldn't do that, Raoul; it would be irresponsible and childish. I'm fine." Perhaps it was due to all of the stress she was feeling, but she felt a flash of annoyance towards Raoul. She wasn't a child, and she didn't need him to make her decisions. But, as she looked into his concerned face, she softened. "I'll be alright, Raoul," she told him gently. "Don't worry about me." She smiled, and he inhaled, trying to calm himself for her sake.

"Call me when you get there, alright?" he requested.

"I will," she promised. He escorted her to her car, holding her hand all the while. When it came time for them to depart, she kissed him on the cheek despite her blush. "Be careful," he instructed, momentarily stroking her face. As she drove away, she was thinking about how fortunate she was to have Raoul. She just knew that nothing could hurt her as long as she had him.

o0o

Erik watched the two youngsters, fury building in him with every passing moment. How could Christine be so _stupid? _She belonged to him, only to him! And, when she kissed that _boy's _cheek, he moaned as though that kiss had been a stab to his heart. He wondered if Jesus had felt the same way when Judas betrayed him with a kiss.

His earlier conflict crossed his mind again. There _was _a solution to this… dilemma, but did he have enough gumption to go through with it? He was a dangerous man, a criminal, and none who knew him would label him as a coward. But, the presence of one teenage girl was enough to set his palms sweating and confuse his thoughts. Yes, when he was near Christine Daaë, Erik was indeed a coward.

And, it was because he was a coward that he would have to take away her right to make her own decisions. Because she was about to choose someone other than himself, he would - in his desperation - steal her away from the world. Deep down, he wanted to be strong enough to let her go, to allow her to find her own happiness, but he needed her like a dying man needs a glass of water. He was a drug addict, and she was his heroin.

His decision was made. He would have Christine even if he had to kill both her and himself. If she couldn't learn to love him, their dead bodies would spend eternity together. But, he couldn't allow her to love and be loved by another… never that!

So, his first course of action would be to write that irritating boy a note to warn him of the consequences of stealing. Yes, that would be best; better to give him a chance to repent of his sins before casting him into hell on earth. That soothed his conscience. Surely Christine would prefer that decision.

As Erik looked out of the window of his car, he saw Joseph coming out of the university building. Hmmm… perhaps he should send Buquet a note as well? He hadn't missed the way the professor's eyes were constantly watching Christine, and he knew better than anyone that the man would stoop to anything to gain what he wanted. Well, Buquet might have anything else he wanted, but he couldn't - wouldn't - have Christine.

_Yes, _Erik thought with a smile. _Life is so much better when one has a plan._

o0o

_Where is he? _Christine wondered. She looked around the classroom only to find it was indeed empty. Sighing, she walked over the desk and sank into the chair. Erik had never been late for one of her voice lessons before, and it worried her. Had she done something wrong? Was Erik sick or injured? Somehow, she couldn't picture him with the common cold; he was far too powerful for petty physical problems to get in his way.

Suddenly, she noticed a red rose resting on his desk. _What the heck? _Erik had a secret admirer? Now, that was funny! Her lips curved into a smile. Upon closer inspection, she saw that a note was next to the rose. She glanced at the note, and the smile slowly disappeared. Where she had expected to see Erik's name, she instead saw… her own. Slowly, she lifted the note and read it.

_Christine,_

_For the time being, I have decided that it is best if we do not continue your lessons. Continue to practice, and we will pick them back up at a later date._

_Ever your servant,_

_Erik_

_He gave me a _rose? was the first thought to hit her astonished mind. _What is _that _supposed to mean? Why is he stopping my lessons now? _She bit her lip, surprised to feel tears welling in her eyes. Angrily, she brushed them away. Of course, she had planned to stop taking lessons eventually so she could be open about her relationship with Raoul… but not _now! _It was too soon! She still needed the lessons… she still needed Erik!

Taking the rose in her hands, she placed its bud to her nose and inhaled its sweet fragrance. Never had she seen a more beautiful rose. With a sigh, she pulled her knees into her chest, wondering what she was going to do now. _Nothing ever goes like I plan it._

o0o

Joseph Buquet sat at the otherwise abandoned bar, broodingly rethinking what had taken place earlier that day. An almost empty bottle of beer sat in front of him… his fourth bottle, in fact. Young Christine Daaë's words replayed in his head: _"You are disgusting…You… you wicked man!" _

Angrily, he took another swig of the alcohol. Everything was slipping away from him: his wife, his reputation… everything. As a young boy, he hadn't planned to become a villain, but darkness had claimed his soul long ago. He believed in God, but only to the extent of knowing that he would be cast into hell one day. He'd fought to gain all that he wanted, to achieve his own ends, and he'd been left empty-handed.

The blasted note… it still sat in front of him. He didn't know how Erik had found out, but then again, Erik always knew everything. In the note was a clear command to stay away from Christine or a "disaster beyond his wildest imagination would occur." Even Buquet with his black soul had trembled upon reading those words, for he above all else knew that Erik was a most dangerous adversary. Yet, once he recovered from his initial fear, he was filled with rage. How _dare _anyone presume the right to give him orders? Before Buquet quite knew what was happening, he was making plans to have revenge against Erik, Kasey, Christine…

He made plans to have revenge against God.

Drinking the last of his beer, he smiled grimly. "There's going to be hell to pay."

**Posted on September 30, 2010**


	12. Interference

******Chapter Eleven: Interference**

******Thanks to gravity01 for pointing out a mistake. In the original draft, Christine was on her way to a voice lesson, but in the last chapter, Erik postponed all future lessons. Obviously, that's a bit of a problem, so I've changed it to fit the plot. Sorry for any confusion! **

Nadir couldn't seem to calm down. He would pace the floor nervously, sit down, and then start pacing again.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Years of being an inspector told him that a change in the wind was brewing. He just wished he knew exactly what that change would entail.

Then, there was the matter of Erik. He hadn't mysteriously appeared from out of the shadows, like Nadir would've expected. In fact, he hadn't seen his masked acquaintance at all since that first night. He'd thought that Erik would've made another appearance to warn him off, to threaten him in hopes that he would leave. But, Erik had truly been like a ghost for the past few weeks. No trace of him could be found anywhere.

Nadir still believed that something strange was going on between Erik and that girl, Christine Daaë. To the Persian, it almost seemed as though Erik believed he cared for her. Yet, Nadir knew Erik's nature better than anyone. The masked genius would be obsessed with something until he completely devoured it. No doubt that he would view the girl as a possession, something that rightly belonged to him. If Christine had become one of his obsessions, she might not survive.

Once again, Nadir dialed Erik's number on his cell phone. And, once again, all he heard was an answering machine.

The Persian sank into a chair and put his face in his hands. _Oh, Erik, _he wondered. _What pain are you causing now? _All Nadir knew was that eventually, something would explode, and he'd have a masked madman to deal with.

o0o

Despite Christine's apprehensions, Mr. Buquet didn't even look at her during Spanish. Not that she trusted him; no, she knew that he was a viper. As soon as the class ended, she grabbed her textbook and left the room. The last thing she needed was to be alone with him again.

"Hey, wait up!" Meg reached out and grabbed Christine's arm, managing to slow her paranoid friend. "What's up with you, Christine? You act as though Satan himself is after you."

Christine shuddered at her friend's words. _Oh, Meg… you have no idea how close you are to the truth. _Forcing a smile, she merely shook her head and said, "I have to go practice, and I want to get to the music building before all of the practice rooms are taken."

"Ah, yes; the opera Nazi calls," Meg stated.

"He's not a monster, Meg," Christine quietly argued. She purposefully didn't mention she was no longer having lessons.

"No, he's just an overgrown baby with control issues."

"Knock it off. I'll call you later, alright?"

Meg clearly didn't approve of Christine going to the voice lesson, but all she said was, "Okay. Go on; I'd hate for him to be mad at you because of me."

Laughing, Christine playfully shoved her best-friend. "Thanks a bunch; I'm glad to know that you care so much about my well-being." On the way to the practice rooms, she stopped by the office again. _Why is it closed early? _she wondered, frustrated. She really did need to talk to the board about her Spanish professor. _Tomorrow, _she promised herself. _I'll come early tomorrow, and all of my problems will be solved. _

_Even though she knew he wouldn't be there, she decided to take a quick peek in the room where she had her voice lessons. Maybe he changed his mind, or he was playing some kind of weird prank.____ Erik, prank? s__he scolded herself, __not with the way he has been lately.__ Still, she couldn't stop herself from harboring the tiniest hope. _The hallways grew more and more isolated the closer she was to the classroom, and without knowing why, she shivered and felt cold. Finally, she reached the room.

_Please be here, please be here… _the brunette fervently entreated as she entered through the doorway. She looked around, and an empty classroom was all that was in front of her. Exhaling angrily, she turned to go… and stopped immediately. There, standing between her and the doorway, was Joseph Buquet.

Fear instantly began to build within her. "Move, please; you're in my way." She fought to keep her voice steady, but some of her anxiety must have leaked into her voice, for he smirked. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Christine." Slowly, deliberately, he started moving towards her. Eyes wide, she stepped back, trying to put more distance between them.

"I'm warning you." _Stay calm, stay calm! _her mind screamed. It was like having a face-off with a snake: slow, cautious steps were all that would help her escape, and she mustn't let the predator know she was frightened.

Buquet laughed in response to her threats. "No one else is in this part of the building. Go ahead; scream. No one will hear you." As he moved even closer, Christine felt her back hit the wall. Before she could move, Buquet was pressed up against her, forcing her to stay pinned against the wall. A slimy hand traced the length of her arm. _No, no, NO!_

"I swear, I'll tell everyone," the petrified girl whispered. "Your career will be ruined."

"Christine, what a stupid girl you are," sneered the professor, moving his hand up to stroke her cheekbone. The girl shuddered, closed her eyes in disgust, and turned her face so it'd be out of his reach. "I'm on the board; if I say that you threw yourself at me, everyone will believe it, and you will be expelled from the university. You have no witnesses, no way of proving anything. Look at me," he added in a growl. He grabbed her chin and forced her face back towards him, squeezing her face so she couldn't speak. "I told you that I always get what I want in the end. Now, be a good student and behave. Nothing is going to stop me, so I suggest you suck it up and enjoy it as much as you can." As he finished, he lunged forward and attempted touched his mouth to her virgin lips. With a cry of outrage, she bit down on his lip, hard. He yelled and jerked his head back. Blood stained his lip, and Christine was viciously glad that she'd hurt him. But, her triumph soon gave way to horror. "You're going to regret that," he snarled, lunging towards her once again. She screamed and fought like a wild animal, but soon, he was holding her both her hands above her head with one of his and holding them against the wall. His other hand moved to her waist, and she whimpered in fear. _Please, God, don't let it hurt, _she prayed, desperately trying to force her mind off of what was about to happen. She closed her eyes. _If I can't see you, you can't see me. _The childish game flashed through her tortured mind. _See no evil… see no evil… see no evil… If I can't see you, you can't see me…_

Then, as all hope seemed to be have evaporated, a beautiful voice rang out, loud and clear. "Stop!"

Christine's eyes immediately opened, and standing in the doorway was Erik.

"Erik!" she cried, relief flooding through her. _I'm saved! Erik will protect me. He won't let this monster hurt me._

Buquet's lip curled. "Ah, Erik. Have you come to share?"

Erik did not portray any emotion. In a completely calm voice, he gave his order. "Release her, Buquet."

To Christine's surprise, the man laughed. "Release her? Surely you know as well as anyone that a criminal never releases what he has stolen." As if to test Erik, Buquet caressed the side of Christine's face again. She flinched and looked at Erik pleadingly. His eyes flashed dangerously, and he started to advance cautiously.

"It would be wise to release her," he said in a low voice. "_Now._"

"Let's pretend that I'm not wise." Buquet was touching her hair now. Cringing, she thought, _I'm REALLY going to have to wash my hair after this… about twelve times._

"You have until the count of three."

The evil professor laughed again. "No."

"One…"

The hand was sliding down her side. "Erik…"

"Two…"

She was squirming now. If Buquet was going to have his way, then he would be having it with a dead body. "Erik!"

"Three!"

As soon as the final number rang through the air, Buquet's smug expression turned to one of pain. Screaming, he clutched his right wrist with his left hand and sank to the floor. What Christine saw filled her with horror. A rope was around the professor's wrist, which appeared to be broken. Erik was holding the other end of the rope, his eyes burning in hatred towards the man on the floor. In that moment, he looked like an angel of vengeance, filled with a dark and terrible beauty. Christine stared, her eyes incapable of fully comprehending the scene in front of her. Then, Erik looked up, and he instantly changed. He held out his hand towards her. Shaking, she stumbled over the fallen man and took it. Dropping the strange lasso he held, Erik put his arm around her protectively and led her to the door. Before they exited the room, however, Erik turned slightly to face Buquet again.

"Never touch her again," Erik growled. Buquet paled. "If you so much as touch one strand of her hair, your life will be forfeit." He turned again and led his angel from the room. They didn't stop walking until they were outside. Once Christine felt the cool air, she broke down.

"Poor Christine…" her savior said quietly, pulling her close to him. She buried her head on in his chest and put her arms around him, shivering violently. Everything was so cold, but Erik was so warm. The arms holding her were strong, and she felt truly safe in his embrace. And, as he held her while she cried, somehow, they were made complete, if only for a little while.

Finally, she managed to dry her tears. He still didn't let her go, and she couldn't make herself angry with him.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I… I don't know what I would have done if… if…"

"You are safe now, Christine," the masked man promised. A slight pressure touched the top of her head, and she vaguely wondered if he had kissed her hair. She didn't care, though; all she wanted was to be comforted.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asked, concerned. She shook her head adamantly.

"No… I'll only be alone.."

"Then, where do you want me to take you? Where do you want to be?"

Before she could think of the logic behind her thinking, she had given him an answer. "I want to be wherever you are."

o0o

"Come on, Christine! Pick up the phone!" groaned a very frustrated Raoul de Chagny as he called his girlfriend's cell phone once again. As the answering machine played for what must have been the twelfth time, Raoul threw his phone down in frustration. Christine hadn't contacted him since that morning, and he was worried sick about her. She usually let him know whenever she arrived at work and her house. She was incredibly endearing in the sense that she was so feminine; she always felt the need to let him know that she was safe, which secretly made him feel ecstatic. However, over twelve hours without a word to either him nor Meg… that was just unusual. He prayed that she was safe, and as he grabbed his phone to resume his calling, he determined that he _would _find Christine, even if she didn't want to be found.

o0o

Christine groaned when she woke several hours later. She squinted as she tried to persuade her eyes to become accustomed to the sunlight that was streaming through her window. Suddenly, she shot up in bed, her eyes wide with terror. She didn't recognize this room! Where was she? Had she been captured, after all?

"Good morning."

Shifting, she saw Erik standing in the doorway, watching her. Everything that had taken place the night before hit her, and she could only stare helplessly for several moments.

"Where… where am I?" she whispered, not knowing if she should really strive to know the answer.

"You are in my home," his angel's voice explained.

"Your home? But, I… I need… what I mean to say is that I don't have anything I need," she stuttered.

He sighed. "A change of clothes is waiting for you in the bathroom," he told her, indicating a joining room. "Come quickly; I must return you before the fools of the world start to miss you."

**Posted on October 2, 2010**


	13. Interlude: Hope and Despair

**Ten reviews for one chapter? Have I ever told you how much I love you guys? Thank you so much for all of your feedback! :D**

**This is the answer to your request to know Erik's thoughts in the midst of all this. Since I know it's short, I'll have the next chapter up for you soon. ;)**

**Interlude: Hope and Despair**

_"I want to be wherever you are." _

Those few simple words filled me with hope. She _chose _to stay with me! She _wanted _to be with me!

Of course, my darkest, sardonic side wasted no time in sneering at me. _She was afraid. She only wanted to be assured of not being attacked again. Besides, she never would have said that if she knew your darkest secret… what you so desperately hide from her…_

My hand automatically flew my right cheek to make sure that the beloved and hated mask still hid what lurked underneath. It's true. I only show Christine the shred of normalcy that I possess. She can never know me fully or she will be gone forever. No! She cannot know! She will NEVER know!

No one can love a monster, and no one can tame a beast.

But… what if she could learn to accept the mask as part of me? Already, she doesn't stare and doesn't make inquiries about it. She treats me as though I'm any other man. Can there be hope for me, after all?

I remember the time I danced with her, how I had held her in my arms. I know that I hadn't merely imagining the increased rate tempo of her heart. And, she accepted my offer to train her voice. Even though I know she was driven by the need to gain her father's affections - I am no fool, for I've never thought that _I _was the one she sang for - by allowing me to hear her voice, she allowed me to glimpse the most intimate desires of her soul, albeit unknowingly. It was through her voice that she opened herself to me, and once I had seen and heard her, I knew I had to have her as my own.

Call me insane, call me cruel… but never call me heartless. For, when I found Christine, I discovered a heart living within me that I had believed long since dead. Like I said, I only show Christine the shred of normalcy that is still somehow within me… but if she can bring out the normal side - the _man _- in me, then perhaps she can also learn to love the wretch that I am. I will save Christine and give her the life she deserves, and even though she will be furious at first, I know now that she cannot hate me. She _asked _me to save her. It will grieve me to see her angry with me and to hear her harsh words... but in time, she will remember what I have done for her and forgive me. She _must. _I don't know how I can survive if she doesn't.

Despair, you might mock me tonight, but you will not win this war… for true love conquers all.

_"I want to be wherever you are." _


	14. Aftermath

**Didn't I tell you the next chapter would be up soon? R&R! :D**

**Chapter Twelve: Aftermath**

"_Hi, this is Christine. I obviously can't answer my phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks and have a great day!"_

Smothering the desire to scream, Meg forced her voice to stay calm. "Hey Christine, it's me. I've tried calling you several times and have texted you, but you never reply back. I understand if you went to spend the night at another friend's house if your dad was being a pain again, but for real, let me know where you are! I'm a worrier… I can't help but worry about you. So, call me back as soon as you get this message. Thanks." Finally, she ended the call and sipped her coffee, absorbed in thought. True, Christine was a private person, but she never failed to reply to a call or text message from her best-friend. Christine knew how likely it was for Meg to go into a panic-attack if she didn't receive that reply soon, so Meg's feeling that Christine was in trouble wasn't entirely incorrect.

_Please, Christine, _begged Meg as she stood to put away her coffee mug. _Call me. I worry about you sometimes._

o0o

Christine looked around the bathroom in awe. It was nearly as big as her bedroom! Feeling more than slightly intimidated by such grandeur - and yes, she _was _applying that word to a bathroom - she walked over to the sink to wash her face, making cool water pour from the golden faucet. A small but fluffy had towel was near the sink, so she used it to dry her face. Performing such ordinary rituals comforted her enough to think about the unordinary events that had taken place the previous day.

It had taken her a long time for her skin to stop feeling slimy and disgusting. The stench of Buquet lingered in her nose, making her feel nauseous. When he cornered her in that classroom, she knew she was going to die, for she wouldn't allow anyone to defile her as long as she had breath in her body.

But… everything had changed in the blink of an eye. Like a mother's voice calling her child out of a nightmare, Erik's voice saved her from the darkest moments of her life. And, once he took her away from that horrid place, she clung to him. Yes, he frightened her at times and she didn't understand him, but he was also powerful, and she knew with every fiber of her being that as long as she wasn't with Erik, no one could hurt her. So, she asked him to take her with him, to help her escape the world for a short while. Though she thought she would have to beg, he obliged immediately, wrapping her in a warm and comforting blanket of music while she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Now…

Feeling self-conscious, she slipped into the change of clothes Erik had provided. To her slight disturbance, the clothes fit her perfectly. Then, she shook her head. _It's not THAT big of a deal; after all, anyone can tell that I have a stick figure, _she reasoned dryly. _This is probably the first time that having absolutely no curves has worked to my advantage. _The soft, long-sleeved brown shirt and blue jeans felt heavenly, for as far as she was concerned, the other clothes were tainted. After tying her hair up into a low, sideways ponytail, she exited the bathroom and went to find Erik.

The room she had occupied was at the end of a rather long hallway that twisted in different directions unexpectedly. The dim lighting made it hard to see where she was going, and once, she ran into a door and hit her side on a doorknob. _This is almost like a haunted house, _she thought, then shuddered. _Great, Christine. Way to freak yourself out, _she mocked herself, trying to distract her nerves. Still, she slowed her steps and tried to reduce the noise of her breathing.

As she walked through the strange house and its bizarre passageways, a strange sound tickled her ears. Alert, she stopped and listened.

"_Il mio mistero è chiuso in me, _

_il nome mio nessun saprà! _

_No, no!"_

The voice was impossible to mistake, for as it rang throughout the seemingly empty spaces around me, something in my soul heard another song hidden amongst the lyrics and notes of the aria that the common ear would heed: _Christine, Christine…_

She stopped again, confused beyond belief. This was not ordinary. How could a voice possibly fill her with such wonder? Part of her wanted to linger in the hallway in order to listen longer, but she shoved the thought out of my mind and hurriedly entered the room that concealed Erik's voice.

The song ended the moment she opened the door, and Erik was facing her expectantly. For the first time, she was embarrassed of the whole situation. _Do I try to ruin my reputation, or does it just happen? _she vaguely wondered as she avoided meeting his eyes.

Her action didn't go unobserved by Erik. _She's ashamed, _he mourned. _She wishes I hadn't taken her. _But, he couldn't find it within him to feel any regret. Buquet had been so close to robbing his angel's purity, and the stop such a vile transgression was worth anything, even Christine's distrust.

If he hadn't forgotten his violin, she wouldn't have been saved. He was expecting to find a classroom vacant of all people, fetch his violin, and leave. He had _not _been expecting to walk into a classroom and find anyone, especially not the foul Spanish professor - forcing himself on his protégé. The sight of that and the terror in Christine's eyes filled him with a black, destructive fury. What he wouldn't have given to have his lasso around Buquet's neck…

Ah, but that was when the man in him intervened, the man that only existed when Christine was near. Though she might hate Buquet and want him dead, Erik knew that she wouldn't want _him _to kill the wretch. It would make her a witness to cheap blood staining his hands. And, he certainly didn't want her to see the fierce joy it would give him to cause her attacker to scream in agony. That would not do, so he had to satisfy himself with merely saving her. As for giving Buquet until the count of three, that was also for the girl's benefit. He wanted to his actions to be completely for the purpose of keeping Christine from being desecrated, which meant he'd have to give the filth of a man time to reconsider putting his unworthy hands on an angel. Secretly, Erik was glad the fool hadn't changed his mind, for he'd _wanted _to cause him pain. Thus, he'd broken his wrist and snatched Christine from the claws of the devil.

No, he couldn't make himself regret a single moment, even if he was seeing fear in Christine's eyes. _How can I feel ashamed of my actions when she is standing in front of me, whole and pure… a living angel? _

"I trust you slept well?" he inquired, needing to hear her voice. _Please, little one… don't be afraid. I would never hurt you… _To his amazement, she almost seemed to hear him, for she lifted her head and smiled softly.

"Yes, thank you." While she never would've said a word of it to him, she heard the slight unease in his voice, and when she looked at him, she saw… shyness. Erik, the powerful, menacing dark angel, was suffering from _shyness. _The irony of it made her smile and feel bold enough to relax somewhat.

"I… don't wish to be rude, but I really ought to go home," she told him apologetically. "Meg will be worried sick about me." _I wish I could include my dad, too, but he probably hasn't even noticed that I'm gone._

"If you wish." He offered her his hand, ever playing the gentleman, and even though she took it without hesitation, it couldn't quench the misgivings in his mind. _Of course she is in a hurry to return to her boy, _he internally sneered. It's a shame he couldn't know that Raoul hadn't even crossed her mind. They had reached his car before Christine realized that her own car was still at her house, as she'd ridden to class with Meg the day. Guilt filled her. "Oh, Erik! I'm so thoughtless. I should… pay you for the gas money, or something…"

_You cannot give me what I ask for, Christine. At least, not yet. _"Don't worry about it. I assure you that it's absolutely no trouble whatsoever."

"But, Erik…"

"I insist." That being said, he opened the passenger door for her. Timidly, she slid into the car, and moments later, they were on the road. Neither of them spoke, and Christine was grateful for the silence. They reached her home in less than ten minutes, and she was surprised that he lived so close to her. Of course, the distance didn't really matter, for in reality, they were worlds apart. Erik left the vehicle and once again opened her door for her before had a chance, and she quietly said, "Thank you, Erik… for everything."

He hesitated, conflict evident on his face. Then, as though decided, he opened his mouth to speak. "Christine…"

"Christine!" Both turned at the sound of the voice. To Erik's annoyance and Christine's shock, Raoul de Chagny was quickly walking towards them. Christine turned her gaze back to her teacher's face, and with a sinking feeling, she realized that he was angry. Frantically, she faced Raoul again and forced a smile onto her face. "Hey, how are you?" she asked lightly, as though everything was normal.

"Don't," Raoul replied with what can only be described as a growl. "That was _him, _wasn't it?"

"Him?" At that moment, the car engine revved, and Erik was soon speeding away in his car. Christine's relief was short-lived, for Raoul continued to push her for answers. "Was it?"

"Your music teacher! Why were you with him, Christine? And, where have you been?" His voice was strained with worry, and he looked as though he hadn't slept well. Nevertheless, she had to fight down her irritation as he pried into her personal life. _Must I tell him EVERYTHING? _

"Apparently, I was with him because I needed a ride home," she said sarcastically.

"But, where were you all last night? Did you -"

"Did I what, Raoul?" The strain of the last twenty-four hours was catching up with her and stealing her ability to control her emotions. "Is that truly what you think of me, then? Do you honestly think I would do such a thing?"

The boy paled as he recognized his error. "Please, Christine, forgive me," he pleaded. "I've just been so worried, and when I saw you with him…"

She sighed tiredly, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. Her head was killing her, and she needed to be alone. "Just forget it, Raoul," she told him.

He nodded eagerly, willing to do anything to appease her. "Do you want to go somewhere?"

"No; I just want to be alone for now." Her words stung him, she could tell, but for once, her own needs couldn't simply be ignored. She needed time to reflect and decide what to do about the whole Buquet situation. As dear as Raoul was, he would only hinder her.

Her hopes that he would understand, however, were not granted as an obvious look of hurt appeared on his face. Still, he managed to nod his head and say, "I'll call you later, then. And, Christine…" He affectionately ran a hand along her cheek. "Please don't forget; you don't know how worried I was about you."

Again forcing a smile onto her face, she agreed, and soon, she had the solitude she'd been craving. She sank to her bed and stared out the window, looking but not really seeing. Something was going to give soon; she could feel it. She just wondered what it would be and prayed it would ease some of the tension within her.

**I realized that I didn't cite the song used in this chapter. Sorry about that. It's called "Nessun Dorma," and I have included the English translation below.**

**Nobody shall sleep!...  
Nobody shall sleep!  
Even you, o Princess,  
in your cold room,  
watch the stars,  
that tremble with love and with hope.  
But my secret is hidden within me,  
my name no one shall know...  
No!...No!...  
On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines.  
And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!...  
(No one will know his name and we must, alas, die.)  
Vanish, o night!  
Set, stars! Set, stars!  
At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win! **

**Posted on October 8, 2010**


	15. Paranoia

**R&R&E (read, review, and enjoy!) :)**

**Chapter Thirteen****: Paranoia**

The masked figure crept into the house, smirking at how easy it was to infiltrate the building. As much as his nemesis prided himself on being an "expert criminal," Erik was rather bored by the lack of intrigue in the breaking-and-entering process. In a matter of minutes, he was outside the parlor. Silently, he opened the door. Buquet was sitting in an armchair, his back facing the door. Erik waited until he was just behind him to make his presence known.

"What's wrong, Buquet? Have you turned everyone away?" he asked scornfully. To the professor's credit, he didn't jump or seem startled in any way; turning slightly to face his foe, he glowered. "You're one to talk," was his rebuttal. "Tell me: was she as pleasing as she appears?"

In one swift movement, Erik lifted the scumbag out of his chair and pinned him against the wall. Grasping his neck, he felt a sick satisfaction as the man's pulse sped and his eyes widened. Everything within him was screaming, _Kill him! He tried to hurt your angel! Kill him now!_

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now," he growled menacingly. He squeezed more tightly to show the wretch he was serious.

"Go ahead; kill me," Buquet spat. "Go ahead and make yourself unworthy of her." The deadly hand froze, and the man smiled, knowing he'd hit a nerve. "You might be able to protect her from me… but can you protect her from yourself? It's only a matter of time before she learns who you really are. Go on and kill me, and when you do, you'll prove to her that she's better off without you."

_He's right. _While he viewed ridding the world of Buquet as a noble act, he knew Christine would never view it in the same light. Of course, he _could _keep it a secret. What was that old adage? _What she doesn't know won't hurt her;_ yes, that was it. But, even while his vision burned red with the longing to cause the man pain, Christine's perfect, angelic face filled his mind. Even if she never knew, _he _would know, and he'd never be able to face her again. So, he reluctantly released Buquet and took a step back.

"No. I'm not going to kill you. I'm not like you," he snarled.

His foe smirked, and Erik clenched his hands into fists to maintain control. _For Christine, _he reminded himself. _Do it for her. _

"I must say I'm surprised, Erik," Buquet said, the sneer still on his face. "Can it be true that love truly does change people? I suppose so, for the almighty crime lord has grown soft over one teenage girl!" He threw his head back and laughed. Through gritted teeth, Erik hissed, "You _will _stay away from her."

Buquet shook his head and smiled condescendingly. "Ah, now _this _is the Erik I've always known and loved," he taunted, sarcasm dripping from his intonation. "Back to threats, are we?"

"It's not a threat," the masked man assured. "It's a promise. I'm not going to kill you now, but if you ever so much as lay a finger on one strand of her hair, may God himself have mercy on you, for I will show none."

The professor roared with laughter. "The girl has made you believe in a divine Creator as well? Oh, this is too rich!" Leaning back against the wall, he laughed while Erik backed away. Right before he reached the door, Buquet called, "Oh, and Erik?" Seeing that Erik was listening, he continued, "She might trust you now… but just wait until she sees your face. You really ought to show it to her sometime. That would be the best way to find out what she truly thinks about you."

"You really ought to be quiet before I reach the point where I can't be held responsible for my actions," Erik replied. Then, he exited, the sound of Buquet's laughter echoing in his ears. But, as much as he was loathe to admit it, the man had placed doubts in his mind. He could sense the oncoming darkness within him, and he struggled to push it away. All but running to his car, he climbed inside and began to drive. He needed Christine _now._

o0o

Christine was somewhat disturbed by the way the world had continued to turn without her. No one else knew what had taken place, for she hadn't breathed a word to anyone. She simply wanted to put it behind her. True, it was potentially a mistake, but she was afraid the man would come after her if she said anything.

The day after Erik took her home was an average one with the exception of her skipping Spanish. Also, Buquet had mysteriously gone missing. Nobody knew where he was; he just didn't show up for his classes. When Christine heard the news, she felt sick and couldn't help but wonder if Erik had anything to do with it.

Throughout the entire day, every shadow and every strange voice startled her. The girl was paranoid, thinking that vile hands would reach out and drag her into the darkness at any moment. At work that night, Hannah pulled her aside during a lull in the stream of customers.

"Christine, what's wrong with you?"

_Everything is wrong with me, __Christine wanted to say. Instead, she feigned ignorance._"What do you mean?" Her tone was both innocent and challenging. "Are customers complaining about me or something?"

"No, but sweetie, you look like you're afraid of everything."

"That's ridic–" Another waiter accidentally bumped into her. She jumped as though burned, thus proving Hannah's point. Meeting her co-worker's skeptical gaze, she groaned. "Okay, so maybe it's not ridiculous," she admitted. "I'm just having an off-day. Really, I'm fine."

Hannah shook her head in disbelief. "Sure, and I'm Miss America." Looking over Christine's shoulder, she saw a customer enter. "Wait right here," she instructed. Then, she walked away quickly.

"How many, sir?" she inquired of the masked man.

"Party of one." Then, in a movement so smooth that no one else noticed, he slipped Hannah a hundred dollar bill. The restaurant was full, so there was no other guarantee of being given what he wanted. "I would like to be seated in Christine's section, please," he requested.

She immediately tried to return the money. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why ever not?" His voice was silky and persuasive, causing her to stare at him blankly for a few moments. Oh, Erik knew the power of his voice, and while he rarely needed or used it… tonight, he was desperate.

Hannah blinked several times before she could answer him. "Ummm, she's not having a good night. I don't want anyone to upset her," she added pointedly.

Frowning, Erik looked around but didn't see Christine. "How about you ask her and I'll let you keep the money?" he suggested.

She couldn't really argue with that. She gave him a fake smile and said, "I'll be right back." Hurrying back into the kitchen, she approached Christine, who hadn't moved.

"Christine, someone is trying to pay me to sit in your section," she informed her quietly.

The russet-haired girl's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no! No, put him somewhere else!" she wailed, distraught. "He was black hair and has a foreign-sounding last name, doesn't he?"

Hannah exhale noisily, tired of all of the drama. "I don't know his last name, but he doesn't have black hair. He's right there," she supplied, pointing towards the restaurant entrance. Christine peeked out of the kitchen, and to her great relief, Erik was standing there. She visibly relaxed. "Go ahead and seat him, Hannah," she instructed softly. "I'll be out in just a moment."

Shaking her head in confusion, she went and led Erik to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. "She's coming," she told him. "I don't know why, but she's coming."

Erik laughed. "You really don't like me, do you, Hannah?"

"I don't like anyone who calls me by my name without permission," she snapped. Erik laughed again as the girl walked away huffily, but his mood instantly changed as Christine approached him. Poor girl... she looked as though she hadn't slept at all, for there were dark circles under her eyes, and she was slumping forward instead of carrying herself with her natural grace.

"You look exhausted, my dear," he observed sympathetically. She smiled slightly, relishing in the sound of his rich voice.

"I'm holding up," she assured him. "Would you like to order?" Swallowing frustration, he placed his order. He knew she had to be professional while she was working, but surely… Yes, the restaurant was already emptying. When she returned with his meal, he took her hand to keep her from leaving.

"Sit down, Christine," he suggested gently. "Surely the others will not mind."

Without a single protest, she sank onto the opposite bench.

"I want you to be honest with me, Christine. How are you doing?" he asked, his eyes intense.

"Not so well," she confessed. He nodded; he'd expected as much. For a fleeting instant, he regretted restraining himself from killing Buquet. ___This is all his fault. I should have killed him when I had the chance._

A small, white hand covered his own, and as he met Christine's eyes, he realized that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. Startled, he searched her complexion for disgust or fear… but all he saw was understanding and gratitude. "Don't say that," she said quietly. "I wouldn't want you to do such a thing because of me."

_I would do it for you, though; I would do it again and again and again, _he silently vowed. Perhaps some of his feelings appeared on his face, for she smiled and laced her fingers with his in a comforting way. "I suppose you don't know, then?"

"Know what?" he wanted to know, confused.

Her smile grew. "Mr. Buquet has been missing for the past few days. No one knows where he is, and he hasn't contacted anybody."

While to her it might be good news, it filled Erik with concern. Why would he be hiding, unless… Unless he was planning something? Subconsciously, his fingers gripped hers tighter. _I have to protect her. If anything happened to her, I'd die. _Carefully, he chose his next words. "Christine, I would like to take you home. Actually…" here, he paused to gauge her reaction. "I insist upon it. Furthermore, I don't want you going out alone. It might not be safe." Relieved, she didn't seem offended or frightened. Instead, she laughed softly.

"You sound like you've been as paranoid as I've been," she commented, teasing.

He returned her smile. Buquet was wrong. Christine was different. Otherwise, why did he feel so _normal _right now? "Sometimes, my dear girl, paranoia pays off."

**Posted on October 13, 2010**

******A/N: I was recently informed that I didn't give credit to the _Gone With the Wind _quote in this chapter (a few lines of the banter between Erik and Hannah). This was an accident; I truly thought I'd noted that, and I apologize for my mistake. _Gone With the Wind _belongs to the brilliant Margaret Mitchell, not myself.  
**


	16. Shock

**Chapter Fourteen: Shock **

Two days later, Christine moaned as her alarm clock screamed at her. She still wasn't sleeping very well, and she wasn't ready to leave her warm bed and face the cold day. Angrily throwing back the covers, she jumped out of the bed and hurried into the bathroom. Once she was clean and dressed, she usual amount of makeup, meaning mascara and powder. She didn't see the point of caking on a ton of cosmetics; in her mind, it seemed ridiculous for girls to paint masks on their faces.

As she entered the kitchen to grab some breakfast, she noticed her father picking at his coffee and toast dejectedly. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his frame was slumped as though a huge weight sat on his shoulders.

"Dad?" she asked carefully.

"Mmmm?" was the only answer she received. He met her eyes, and instantly, a wave of understanding crashed over her. Putting aside her fear of his rejection, she walked forward and kissed his forehead lovingly. "You need sleep, Dad," she told him quietly.

To her amazement, he gave her a slight smile. "And, when am I supposed to find time for this 'sleep' you speak of, child?" She returned his smile hesitantly, afraid that the moment would evaporate. "Stay home today," she urged. Before he could protest, she raised her hands to keep him from speaking. "I don't mean all day; just stay here and rest until it's time for choir rehearsal."

He sighed. "Christine, you know I can't just stay home. I have work to do, and…"

"Please, Dad," she whispered. "Stay home… for me?"

He met her eyes for several moments, debating on whether to honor his daughter's wishes. She sounded so much like Kathryn… but for once, the sharp pain was dulled. _Please, Allen, _she used to say with a pout. _For me? _

_Do it for me, _a voice whispered in his mind. Tears welled up in his eyes as he slowly nodded. "I'll stay home, he promised his daughter. For you, I'll stay at home."

Kissing her father's forehead again, she thanked him quietly, although her heart felt as though it could sing with joy. She had approached him… and he had not pushed her away! She exited her house with a smile on her face, and once the door was closed, she twirled around and laughed… until she heard clapping behind her.

Startled, she stopped and found Erik facing her.

"You never told me that you're a dancer," he commented, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

She grinned back at him. "I do believe you once had the honor of dancing with me, monsieur," she replied playfully.

"Very true, mademoiselle. Touché," he commended with a bow. Laughing, she followed him to his car and went inside after he opened the door for her. Ever since their discussion at the restaurant, Erik had arrived every morning to drive her to the college campus, insisting that it wasn't the least bit convenient and that he would've passed her house, anyway. Christine knew that wasn't the truth, for she had seen him drive away in the complete opposite direction every single time, but she let him play the gentleman. She wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth after her encounter with Buquet.

As they pulled out of her driveway, Erik noticed her shivering. "Are you cold?" he asked in concern.

"A little," the brunette admitted. "I actually become cold rather easily. It's awfully pathetic." Fighting back the thoughts of how utterly adorable she looked, Erik turned on the car heater. Christine sighed in contentment and leaned her head back against her headrest as she closed her eyes. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to watch her, relishing her beauty, until her head fell towards the window and her breathing changed. Gently, he shook her shoulder, and her eyes instantly opened as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"How much did you sleep last night?" he asked.

"Not a whole lot; I had to study." He frowned upon hearing her lie. The false tones completely ruined the glory of her voice. "Christine, you should know better than to lie to me. Tell me the real reason."

She looked out the window again. Silence filled the air for a few moments as she watched the buildings and other cars go by in a blur. Finally, she quietly answered, "I can't sleep anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see _him._"

Anger surged through Erik. It wasn't right that a demon like Buquet should destroy the serenity of an angel. In a low voice, he said, "He won't hurt you again, Christine. If he values his life, he will stay away from you."

"It's not just that," she said so softly that he strained to hear her.

"What?"

She jumped guiltily. "Nothing…" Her blush deepened, and he let the matter go. She needed to relax, to sleep. He turned on the cd drive, and Mozart was soon playing quietly from the speakers. Christine's head began to nod, and in a matter of minutes, she was asleep once again. She never noticed that Erik drove in circles, loathe to wake her and force her to leave her warm sanctuary.

o0o

Christine's haven ended when Erik reluctantly stopped in the campus parking lot. She had already missed her first class. Not that it was of any importance; he could always make sure that she wouldn't be penalized. Still, he didn't want her to be too upset. So, after he parked the car, he gently shook her shoulder. She protested by whining in her sleep, "Stop it" and pushing his hand away. Stifling his grin, he shook her shoulder again, and this time, her eyes opened. "I said… oh!" The poor girl looked around her, disoriented, and he couldn't hold back his laughter.

"It's alright, Christine," he murmured soothingly. "I just wanted to let you know that we've arrived."

"Oh… yes…" she muttered, still trying to clear the cobwebs in her brain. She glanced down at the clock, and suddenly, she was wide awake. "10:45? I've missed my first class! Erik, how could you let me sleep?" she cried. She grabbed her purse and started to throw herself from the car, but Erik caught her arm and kept her in her seat.

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "The professor was feeling poorly, so you haven't missed your class."

She gave him a look of disbelief. "And, you know this how?"

His eyebrow rose. "I'm on the board, remember?" he reminded her. "I know these kind of things."

"Oh." _Well, don't I just feel stupid… _Then, she noticed that their faces were entirely too close. Lowering her eyes, she murmured, "I need to go into class now. Thank you, Erik."

"You're welcome. I'll see you after your last class," he promised. He watched as she left the warm comfort of his car and stepped out into the biting cold. Wincing from the shock, she waved and quickly made her way into the building. As she sat down for what should've been her second class of the day, she checked her text messages. Sure enough, she had one from Raoul: _Meet me for dinner? We need to talk._

She groaned. Somehow, she didn't think "the talk" was going to be pleasant. Then, she remembered that Erik was picking her up, meaning she would have to lie to him. _Oh, joy; it can't get much better than this, can it?_

o0o

Thankfully, Erik didn't press her for the truth when she told her lie. She knew that he knew she was being dishonest, but he let it slide just the same. He dropped Christine off at an outdoor shopping center at her request, but before he drove away, he hesitated.

"Are you sure Meg said for you to meet her here?"

The girl nodded, trying not to meet his gaze. "We're going to grab some food and then shop for a while, so it'll probably be around 8:00 before we're done. I can ask her to take me home, if you wish…"

Her suggestion was impatiently waved aside. "Nonsense, Christine. I've told you many times that I…"

"Pass right by my house," she finished, the corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. "I'll see you later, then. Thanks!"

"Be careful, Christine." She fought another smile and hurried into the restaurant. She didn't see him park in the back and slip inside and merge with the shadows.

_It's just to protect her, _he told himself. He knew better, though. She had lied to him about meeting the little Giry girl, and he could only think of one explanation. After settling in a booth at the very back of the restaurant, he watched as Christine was seated at a table in the middle of the room.

Then… _he _entered.

Erik stiffened as Raoul de Changy entered and was seated at Christine's table. The smile on her face was almost more than he could bear as the boy sat. _Why, Christine? _he inwardly raged. _Why do you torture me so? _He watched as they talked. He couldn't see the boy's face, but he could see Christine, her face aglow with love. At one point, Raoul leaned in towards her, and Erik's fist pounded into his table in fury. He couldn't take anymore. Rising, he left and went outside into the cold air. Returning to his car, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. _Why, Christine? Why can you not love me?_ And, for the first time since he was a little boy, Erik cried.

o0o

"You _what?_" Raoul asked, incredulity in his voice and expression.

Christine winced. If he continued to keep his current volume, everyone in the restaurant would know what was happening. She fought to keep a neutral expression on her face. Fortunately, the glow of the candlelight concealed the glow of her shame. "I'm sorry, Raoul," she said quietly. "I just… need some time alone. I need to sort things out, and it's not fair to you to keep you waiting."

"I'd wait forever," he declared passionately. "I love you, Christine!" He leaned in as though to kiss her, and she leaned away, biting her lip. "No, Raoul," she quietly insisted. "Don't make this harder than it has to be. I still care about you, but it's not fair to…"

"I get it," he interrupted sullenly. "You have a thing for that music teacher. And, here I was thinking that he was all big and bad and mean. What changed your mind?" He didn't intend to be cruel, but a shrill voice was screaming in his thoughts: _I'm jealous! I'm jealous!_

The poor girl paled. "No, Raoul… please…" She finally broke down. Instantly feeling guilty, he rose and was soon holding her in a hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Really, I am. You're right. I'm not being fair to you at all; I've been acting like a jerk. You can have all of the time you need, Christine. I meant it when I said I'll wait forever." He was smiling now as he gently teased her, but she could see the seriousness in his eyes. She returned his smile as best as she could, and began, "Thank you so much, Raoul. I -"

She was interrupted by her cell phone. She glanced at the caller ID. _Dad. _Frowning, she told Raoul, "Wait here; it's my dad." Without hesitating, she walked outside and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Christine." She gasped and her eyes widened in horror. The voice on the phone didn't sound like her dad… it was too weak, too faltering. "Dad?" She began to shake, not sure if she wanted to know.

"Christine, don't come home…" His plea was interrupted by a loud crashing sound. "Dad?" she asked frantically. "Dad, answer me!" Then, the line clicked, and the call ended.

"_Christine, don't come home…" _But, what could she do? Her father was in trouble! Desperately, her eyes hastily scanned the parking lot… and to her relief, she spotted Erik's car. She ran towards it and pounded on the passenger side door. "Erik! Let me in!" she wailed. Mere seconds later, she was inside. "Christine, what's wrong?"

She didn't hear him. "Lock the doors, lock the doors!" she said hysterically. Finally, Erik put a hand on either side of her face and forced her to stop. "Christine, tell me what happened!" he demanded. "If he hurt you…"

If Christine had been in a normal state of mind, she would have noticed the redness of his eyes. She would have realized that he knew about Raoul. However, all she could do was cry, "My dad! Take me home, please! Hurry!"

Nodding, Erik drove off with terrific speed. As he drove, he commanded, "Tell me everything, Christine. Start from the beginning." And, somehow, she was able to tell him the whole story of the phone call when he fixed his glowing eyes on her. When she relayed that her father had begged her not to come home, he growled angrily. "So, you're basically asking me to take you straight towards danger? Are you _daft?" _He shouted the last word as he clenched the steering wheel. "I shouldn't take you!"

"Erik, please! He's my dad! I love him!"

_But, I love _you, his mind cried back. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Listen to me carefully, then. Do _not _run inside the moment we arrive; stay with me."

"Surely whoever was after him would be gone by now?" the naïve girl protested. He shook his head, trying to control himself. He had a sickening feeling of who had attacked Mr. Daaë, and if he was right, then Christine was in greater danger than she realized.

As soon as the car stopped in her driveway, she opened the car door and tried to dart inside, but Erik grabbed her arm. _"Wait," _he hissed. They quickly entered the house, and shock hit them both. Things were scattered _everywhere: _books, pieces of glass, papers… Christine cried out when she saw her mother's picture on the ground, frame broken and photograph torn. Then, they heard a voice.

"Help! Somebody, please… who's there?"

"DAD!" In a flash, she was running towards the kitchen. She looked around, trying to find out where she had heard her father's voice… and screamed as a hand grabbed her ankle. She jumped back and would have fallen had Erik not caught her. Looking down, she began to cry. Her knees shook and hit the ground. All Erik could do is watch helplessly as the girl he loved knelt and cried over her father.

"Dad… Daddy, what happened?" she sobbed. Blood was on his shirt near his chest, and his leg was bent in an unnatural way.

"Christine… I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes meeting hers for the briefest of instants. Then, his eyes drifted shut.

"Dad? Dad! No… No, no, no!" she screamed, her voice rising in panic. "Please, Dad, don't leave me!" She tried to stand, to run for help, but her legs wouldn't support her. Something caught her before she hit the ground, and the last thing she saw before the world turned black was a flash of gold.

**Posted on October 24, 2010**


	17. Cold

**I must confess that all of your replies about leaving you with a cliff-hanger made my day. I never knew that people could be so irritated by that. Interesting... Anyway, I decided to go ahead and post the next chapter since you guys seemed to want it NOW. :P R&R!**

**P.S. Have I ever mentioned that I love y'all? Well, in case I didn't... you guys are seriously the BEST! :)**

**Chapter Fifteen: Cold**

A pale Christine sat in the silent and empty waiting room. She clasped her hands together as she trembled. How long could it take for one surgery? Her father had been sent to the emergency room over an hour ago. With each passing moment, her anxiety grew. Suddenly, a pair of hands was holding hers.

"Your hands are cold," Erik murmured. "Please don't be anxious, Christine; the doctors will surely be finished any minute now."

"You said that twenty minutes ago." Her throat was dry and her golden voice was raspy. "They should have finished by now." The white walls seemed to be jeering at her. She hated hospitals. Ever since the car accident that claimed her mother's life, they reminded her of pain and death. Plus, they were always cold and harsh. Hospitals, she believed, were the loneliest places for those who lived. She wrapped her arms around herself absent-mindedly. Erik saw the gesture and instantly took off his coat. After a slight hesitation, he handed it to her. With a grateful look, she put it on, wrapping it around her so it covered her like a blanket. Much better. For the first time as she covered herself with the coat, she noticed his scent. It didn't smell like Raoul's scent, which was a combination of cologne and coffee. Erik's scent didn't resemble that of anything store-bought. He smelled good in a different way, and it chased away her imagined odors of death lingering in the hospital. And, as embarrassing as the thought was, his masculine scent made her feel relaxed - safe - the way a child relishes the scent of cookies baking in the oven. It provided a sensation of returning home after a long day.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her cell phone vibrating. She pulled it out of her pocket and checked the caller ID. _Raoul. _During all of the panic over her father, she forgot that she left Raoul at the restaurant without any explanation. _Oh, no… He's probably pissed. _She quickly answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Look, you need some time alone; I understand," said his angry voice on the other line. She winced, and when she turned slightly and realized that Erik was watching her with a frown, she could have slapped herself. _He knows, _she remembered, and her body went cold.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, trying to placate him, but he wasn't listening.

"If you really were that upset with me, you should have told me," he continued. Erik's sharp ears heard the hurt in the boy's voice, and he scowled. _He can never give me a peaceful moment with her, can he? _

Christine watched as his expression darkened. _This is ridiculous… _Rising, she prepared to leave the waiting room. Erik stood to follow her, but she fiercely shook her head. Without waiting for him, she went into the ladies' restroom. _It's sad that this is the only place I can be alone, _she thought with grim humor. _It's even more sad that I actually _want _to be alone right now._

"Christine? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Raoul; I'm here. Are you going to give me a chance to explain myself now?"

A pause, then, "What is there to explain?"

"Oh, Raoul!" Leaning against the wall, she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. "He's in the hospital. I don't know what happened; he called me and said he was hurt." She didn't care that she was lying; no one needed to know that her father had been attacked. Erik knew and that was enough.

"The hospital?" Raoul asked worriedly. "Is he alright?"

"No, he's not alright! He went into surgery more than an hour ago, and…" Her voice broke. Raoul could hear her crying on the other end, and it hurt him. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"Christine, I'm on my way," he promised gently. "I'll be there soon, alright?"

"Okay," she replied quietly. "Please… hurry. I'll be out in the waiting room. And… could you please tell Meg? I haven't told her…"

"Of course I will. I'll see you soon. Hang in there, Christine." She relaxed. Sweet, dear Raoul would be there soon. He didn't know the whole story of her father, and she wanted to be with someone who wasn't… well… she couldn't really imagine crying in Erik's arms if her father…

_He's going to be fine, _she told herself firmly. _He's going to make a full recovery. Now… I have to tell Erik that Raoul is coming… _For a brief moment, she considered hiding in the bathroom until Raoul arrived, but then, she remembered the dark look on Erik's face. _"If he hurt you," _had been her teacher's barely-concealed threat. With a sinking feeling, she reluctantly returned to the waiting room. However, she was met with a sight that made her stop for a moment. Erik was sitting, his head in his hands. Guiltily, she realized that it had to be growing late. He looked… well, more _human _than usual. His hair was messy instead of carelessly combed, and she could see exhaustion in every line of his body. But, when she took another step, his head snapped up and he was immediately alert again.

"When are you going to stop lying to me, Christine?" he asked softly. He wasn't angry; he only sounded tired.

"You know." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

She sat next to him and sighed. "He's on his way."

Silence. Then, he rose from his chair. "You don't have to go," she said quietly.

_Believe me, you don't want me to be near your precious boy right now._ "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Christine. I don't think now would be the best time for your young man and I to meet face-to-face. I will have to have the… _pleasure _of making his acquaintance some other time." He turned to go, paused, and then returned. Before she knew what was happening, he took her hands and kissed her forehead. As his cold lips touched her, her body went rigid. _What on earth?_ "I'm truly sorry for you, child," he told her in the most sorrowfully beautiful of voices. Then, he was gone. And, as Christine watched him leave, something broke inside of her, and she curled up in her chair with his coat and cried herself to sleep.

o0o

"Christine?" A soft voice called to her gently. Stirring, she opened her eyes… and saw Raoul standing next to her chair. Yawning, she sat up and wiped her eyes. "Hey! When did you arrive?"

"About ten minutes ago," he replied. He noticed that she was wearing a masculine-looking coat, but he decided not to say anything about it. _It's probably her dad's, _he told himself. "I didn't want to wake you; you looked exhausted."

"Yeah, I am," she muttered. _It's nice to know that all of the guys in my life respect my need for sleep. _She patted the chair next to her. "Why don't you sit down?" she invited. He accepted her offer and sat. Upon being closer to her, he could see how truly drained and frightened she was, and he couldn't help but compare this Christine to the feisty, sassy Christine he had fallen for instantly.

"Have you heard anything yet?" he asked. She shook her head, biting her lip. Sensing that she didn't really want to talk, he simply nodded and sat in the sorrowful silence with her. Before too long, his hand was holding hers, and with a gentle squeeze, she knew that all was forgiven. _I'm so unworthy of him, _she understood suddenly. _He deserves someone who's sure of herself… and I'm not that person. _Still, she was admittedly too selfish to do anything but lace her fingers with his as she waited to learn of her father's fate.

Mere minutes later, a doctor entered the waiting room. Upon seeing the two youngsters were the only occupants, he cleared his throat. "Miss Daaë?"

Christine rose hastily. "Yes?" she asked, her fear building.

The doctor cleared his throat again. "I… there's no easy way to say this…"

_NO! _she internally screamed with horror. _This can't be happening again! _

"I'm afraid your father has lost too much blood to recover. He was already in pretty bad shape when he arrived."

Raoul squeezed her hand again, but she didn't feel it. Everything went cold around her. _He's going to die…_

"How much time?" she whispered.

"Not much. You may go see him now, if you wish."

"Please." The doctor indicated for them to follow him, and they walked, one unbelieving and the other knew. They reached her father's room, and the doctor opened the door. "I'm truly sorry," he said sincerely before walking away.

"Christine," Raoul began, but she didn't allow him to finish. "I have to go in alone."

"Are you sure that's…"

"Please, Raoul, she begged. "Just go back to the waiting room. I'll be back soon enough." She had to tell her father goodbye, and she didn't want Raoul inside of the room. She already felt vulnerable, and she didn't want to share that with anybody. "I have to go in alone," she repeated softly.

In spite of his better judgment, Raoul slowly nodded. "If you really think that's best." He kissed her cheek and then left in the same direction as the doctor. Christine waited until he was out of sight before walking through the door as she took a deep breath.

There, seemingly lifeless, was her father. He looked so pale, so weak. As though in a dream, she approached the bed. _This isn't real. This CAN'T be happening. _Yet, in her heart, she knew that the nightmare was reality. Mr. Daaë's eyes fluttered open as she took his hand. She smiled weakly. "Hey," she whispered.

"Christine… I am… so sorry," he whispered back. "I've failed you…"

"Shhh," she soothed. "Don't say that."

"It's true," the dying man insisted. "After your mother died… I was so grieved that I forgot that she left me the most beautiful gift of all: _you._"

Tears entered her eyes. "Are you in much pain?"

He smiled slightly. "No, I'm not, sweetie. I only feel… cold." Turning desperately, Christine looked around the room and spotted a blanket sitting on the only armchair. She picked it up and spread it over her father's form, and he smiled again. "Thank you. Now, there's something I must tell you. I haven't been a good father…"

"Daddy, please…" He squeezed her hand to signal that he wanted to continue, and she went quiet, waiting for him to talk again.

"I haven't been a good father, but I want you to know… I'm proud of you."

Her tears were freely flowing from her eyes now. "You're proud of me?"

"I always have been," he responded faintly. "You look so much like your mother; so beautiful…" He gasped and Christine winced. Obviously, he was trying to play down the pain so she wouldn't worry. After taking a few shaky breaths, he begged, "Promise me something."

"Anything," she answered.

"Keep singing," he exhorted. "Sing… and every once in a while, please think of me fondly, child, even though I don't deserve it."

"I will." Her throat had a lump in it. He was fading so fast… it was too soon to ever say goodbye! "Anything else?"

"The boy…" he began uncertainly. He didn't want to hurt her anymore, but she needed to know. "Remember how I didn't like him when you first brought him home?" She nodded, and he continued. "He's a nice boy… but you don't love him, Christine. Not really."

"What?" _What in the world is he talking about? _she wondered, astonished.

"Trust me; I was in love once, and I don't see love when you look at him. Please consider my words." He looked at her so pleadingly that she said, "I will. I promise." As he took a few more uneven breaths, his hand began to relax. "I love you," he told her in a voice so faint that she almost missed it. Leaning over, the girl kissed her father on the forehead. "Goodbye, Daddy. I love you," she whispered chokingly. "Sleep now." Then, slowly, his hand let go of hers, and the room was silent. He was gone.

She cried over him for a long time. She thought of all the things that should have been, the talks they should have had. Life was so short; one moment there, the next gone forever. Everything felt surreal.

Eventually, she managed to turn and walk back to the waiting room. The moment Raoul saw her face, he knew. "Oh, Christine," he breathed, pulling her in close. Everything came crashing down as his arms held her, but she no longer cared. _I only feel… cold._

**Posted on October 27, 2010**


	18. War

**I'm so sorry that it took me longer than I intended to update this. I've had computer issues, and plus, I'm finding it hard to have time to use it. I'll try my hardest to have another chapter for you guys this week, but no guarantees. Please R&R.**

**P.S. Have I ever told y'all that I love each and every one of you? 3**

**Chapter Sixteen: War**

"Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil…"

The priest's voice was barely audible as the wind picked up, wailing a forlorn cry. It mattered not to Christine; her mind wasn't on the words that were meant to be comforting. Even though Raoul's hand was holding hers, she couldn't feel it, couldn't be comforted by it. She had shed no tears; all of her tears had been cried long before the funeral. Her skin was pale white, and her large, dark eyes were void of all emotion. She couldn't feel anything… she only felt numb.

After the funeral ended, everyone soon departed. Christine could only stand by the graveside as the earth separated her from her father forever. _I was right, _the small voice inside of her mind said. _I will never be able to reach him. _

"Christine, do you want to go?" Raoul asked gently as he came to stand beside her. She shook her head. "No, not yet. I can't leave him yet."

"It's very cold," he said, trying in vain to persuade her. Adamantly, she shook her head again. "I need to stay for a while longer," she insisted. "And," she added, trying to make her voice soft, "I need to be alone."

He nodded understandingly. "Alright. I'll go and wait by the car, okay?"

"That's fine," she replied dully. She didn't turn around as he walked away. Her father's words flashed through her mind: _"He's a nice boy… but you don't love him, Christine. Not really…Trust me; I was in love once, and I don't see love when you look at him." _Wrapping her arms around her frame, she stepped up to her father's grave. How cruel it was that she should lose her father right as they seemed to be making progress! One by one, the people she loved her leaving her behind on a barren earth. The winter morning was cold and windy, blowing her hair around her as if to remind her that she had no control over her life.

She didn't know how long she stood there before she felt his presence. "You're here," she murmured.

"Did you expect me to not be here?" the smooth voice answered.

She still didn't turn. "I don't know. I don't know what to expect of anybody anymore. And, after that day at the hospital… I didn't think I'd ever see you again. You seemed pretty upset."

"I was." Finally, she turned and found that he was directly behind her. He was grieved by what he saw. Her eyes were lacking the mischief they usually held, and she was lacking the life he usually saw in her. "How are you doing?"

The girl laughed bitterly. "I hardly know. I don't feel anything; it's like I'm completely numb."

Without thinking, Erik smoothed a strand of hair away from her face, caressing her cheek as though his fingers had a mind of their own. "Can you feel that?" he whispered, longing to somehow reach her. Her eyes closed. For a moment, she forgot where she was and why she was there. His touch made her forgot everything except for the fact that she could feel again. "Yes," she whispered back. Slowly, his fingers moved to her neck, and her lips quivered. He ached when she opened her eyes again and they were filled with torment. "Why?" she asked, her voice filled with pain. "Why am I always alone?"

"You're not alone," he said in a low voice, lowering his hand. "Even though you might not see it, you're not alone."

Before she could ask the meaning of his words, another voice spoke. "Who is this, Christine?" Startled, she turned… and realized that Raoul was watching. Erik stiffened, inwardly cursing the boy for interrupting.

"This… this is my music teacher, Raoul," she told him quietly. The boy looked as though he was going to argue, so Erik said smoothly, "I came to offer Miss Daaë my condolences." He glared at Raoul, sending him an unspoken challenge.

Raoul wanted nothing more than to confront the masked man before him who monopolized so much of Christine's life, but after taking one look at Christine, he knew that to do so would add more stress to her already heavy load. "I'm Raoul," he introduced, holding out his hand. "Christine's boyfriend."

Neither of them saw the girl wince as they shook hands, each one sizing up the other. "It's a pleasure," hissed the music teacher. For some reason he couldn't understand, Raoul felt ice flow through his veins as the man's eyes glared into his. And, though he hated to admit it, he was intimidated.

"I think we should go now, Christine." It was not a suggestion. Torn, the girl stood between the two, her dearest friend and her angel. She wasn't ready to leave. She wanted to be with Erik longer, for he understood her pain in a way that Raoul couldn't. But, what could she do? Raoul wasn't just going to let her leave with Erik; of that, she was certain.

"Thank you so much… for everything." Her eyes pleaded with Erik to understand, and though he wanted to punch the impertinent boy in the face, he only nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, Christine," he promised. Raoul clenched his fists, and Erik smirked ever so slightly. "It was nice meeting you… _boy," _he added. Gritting his teeth and knowing he'd just been insulted, Raoul turned to leave. After giving Erik one more despairing glance, Christine followed the boy. Erik watched them leave, his blood boiling as the anger within him built. "This is the last time you will walk away from me, Christine Daaë. "I have been generous up until now, but I will no longer fight fair. Now, let it be war upon you both."

o0o

Christine stared out the car window, stubbornly refusing to meet Raoul's gaze. He glanced at her every so often, frustrated. Eventually, he could bear the silence no longer. "That music teacher of yours is a creeper."

Though irritated by his words, she kept her eyes averted. Noting the way she stiffened when he spoke of her teacher, he continued. "Why does he wear a mask?"

Still not looking at him, she said in a carefully neutral tone, "It's none of your business."

"Oh, so you've seen him without it?"

Silence.

"Have you?" Despite that Raoul tried to sound conversational, she sensed the storm beneath all of his calm.

"No!" she snapped, turning towards him at last. "And, like I said, his mask is none of your business."

The way she defended her teacher infuriated him. "You're awfully quick to take his side," he remarked.

"Well, one thing I can't stand is nosy people," she shot back. "Now, _drop it." _She looked away again, signaling that she no longer wished to talk to him, but Raoul kept pushing for answers.

"I don't want you to take lessons from him anymore, Christine."

Her gaze snapped back to him. _"What?"_

"You heard me."

"You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I really? I saw the way he looked at you, Christine!" As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back, for he didn't want her to know that he saw the masked man as a rival.

"What way?" she demanded fiercely. "I think you're seeing things. After all, you're the one who went and told him I was your girlfriend after I told you that I need time alone."

"I did it to protect you!" he protested, and she rolled her eyes. "Don't _even _give me that, Raoul. That is such bull."

"Would you really have him look at you the same way as… as that Buquet filth?" he spat.

Christine's eyes went wide. "Shut _up," _she hissed. "Erik is _nothing _like Mr. Buquet!"

"Since when do you call your teachers by their first names?" He knew he should stop, but a monster named Jealousy had him in its greedy clutches, making his judgment hazy and irrational.

They had reached Christine's house by that point, and she left the car. Facing him one last time, she actually made him lean away from her a bit due to the strength of her fury.

"If you're ready to discuss this rationally after you have realized that you're being pig-headed," she said angrily, "then call me."

"There's nothing to discuss," he shot back bitterly, his tone matching hers. "It's either him or me, Christine."

She couldn't believe her ears. _Of all the… I can't believe he's actually saying that! _Maybe if she had been less angry, she would have given a different answer, but at the moment, she didn't think about the consequences of her words. "I choose him." Then, before Raoul could see her anguish, she ran inside, slamming the door and locking it behind her. She managed not to look at her father's study as she ran to her bedroom. Throwing herself onto her bed, she at last started to cry. She cared about Raoul a great deal, but his jealousy was like a poison that ate away everything positive between them. She couldn't live with his uncertainties as well as her own, especially when he didn't seem to trust her.

_Does he have a reason to be jealous? _a small voice in her head asked.

"No!" she cried aloud. Pounding her pillow with rage, and grief, she cried until she was drained. She tore herself off her bed and went into her bathroom. After filling her cup with water, she looked at herself in the mirror. _I look like a mess, _she thought disgustedly upon seeing her puffy eyes, red nose, and ghostly-pale complexion. Thoroughly repulsed, she made her way back to her bed. Grabbing a benadryl pill out of the bottle on her nightstand, she swallowed it with her water just as the phone rang. She looked down. _Raoul. _Reaching over and turning off her phone, she inwardly sneered, _He can call tomorrow if he cares so much. _She drank some more water, never knowing that she was being watched.

_Of course, why would she suspect that someone is hiding in her closet? _Erik smirked. He internally rejoiced when Christine didn't answer the phone. _Just keep drinking, precious, _he thought. _Wash down the pill I gave you. _The girl was now covering herself with a blanket. _Yes, Christine, that's it; go to sleep. _He smiled. _As soon as you fall asleep, you will be mine at last, and I don't share what belongs to me. Mine… eternally. _And, as he held his breath… she gave unknowingly gave herself to him as she allowed sleep to take her away from reality.

**Posted on November 4, 2010**


	19. Understanding

**Well... I DID say "no promises." My computer and schedule are just NOT co-operating with me. Ugh.**

**R & R. **

**Chapter Seventeen: Understanding**

_Go away, sun, _Christine thought sleepily. Surely it was far too early for the sun to be shining so brightly! Groaning, she muttered, "Alright, alright! I'm up!" Stretching, she reluctantly opened her eyes… and froze. She wasn't in her room. Indeed, she had never seen this room before… or had she? Something in the back of her mind told her that she had, in fact, been in the very same room before, even though her memory couldn't recall it.

Timidly, she rose and stepped into the bathroom. Again, the room sent a huge wave of déjà vu through her, but she couldn't exactly place her finger on it. as she splashed her face with cold water, the bedroom door opened, and she spun around to find herself looking at a middle-aged woman with a smile on her face.

"Good morning," the woman bid. "You're finally awake."

"Ummm… good morning," Christine returned carefully. "I… where am I?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You're at Mr. Campion's house as his guest," she replied as though it was obvious.

"Oh." Inwardly, she said, _Geez, that's a great big help since I don't actually know a Mr. Campion. _Of course, the last name _did _ring a bell, but that was impossible…

"He requests your presence for brunch," the woman was saying, "in forty-five minutes. I suggest you shower and dress, for he is an eccentric man. I will return shortly to show you the way."

_Well, at least I'll discover the identity of the mysterious Mr. Campion. Until then, I might as well act like I'm in my element. _With a nod, she replied, "Very well. Thank you."

Once she was alone, she took advantage of the shower and the contents of the cabinets and drawers. A very small part of her wasn't comfortable with using the hair products and cosmetics she found, but she dismissed her inhibitions. "It's not like Mr. Campion uses any of this," she reasoned.

She found it far too easy to locate a gray sweater dress, wide black belt, and black flats. _Forty-five minutes is only enough time to shower and dress if the girl in question is familiar with her surroundings. _Even more disturbing was the fact that all of the clothes fit her as though they were tailor-made.

Christine also wondered at her lack of fear. True, she felt uneasy, but something told her that she wasn't in danger. _I should probably be even more worried since I don't feel afraid, _she thought wryly.

True to her word, the woman returned soon. "Follow me," she instructed. Wordlessly obeying, Christine followed her through a long hallway. As she walked, she instinctively _knew _that she had visited the place before, even if it was only in her dreams. Without being able to explain it, she remembered that a doorknob stuck out enough to walk into, and she was unsurprised by the dim lighting. _This is a dream, _she told herself faintly. _What other explanation could there be?_

When they reached a set of double doors, the woman opened them, revealing a dining room. In the center of the room was a table, and on that table were two sets of plates, silverware, and glasses. Feeling tentative, Christine sat in one of the chairs upon the woman's prompting. Breakfast consisting of an omelet, pancakes, and yogurt were in front of her, as well as a glass of orange juice. _So, now this Mr. Campion guy just happens to serve me my favorite breakfast? That's… NOT right. _For the first time, she felt the pressing need to leave, but before she could say anything, the woman left her alone. Sighing and deciding that she needed to eat since she hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, she picked up her fork and took a bite of the omelet. _Wow, this is actually really good. He must have a cook. _Laughing quietly and shaking her head, she lifted her orange juice.

"Good morning, Christine."

She froze as the glass touched her lips. _No… it can't be… _Slowly, she turned her head, and what she saw brought everything back.

Her teacher was standing by the doors, his eyes on her. She shuddered involuntarily as her memory was restored piece by piece. _I _have _been here before, when he rescued me. But, why am I here _now?

Erik observed her bewildered countenance as his heart ached. _She still doesn't understand. How can I possibly show her? _Wordlessly, he knelt in front of her chair, confusing her even more. Clearing her throat, she quietly asked, "Erik, why I am here?"

Still not speaking, he took her hands gently in his and bowed his head, refusing to meet her gaze. Due to her confused state, she allowed him the small liberty. "Erik," she repeated, trying to keep her voice calm, "why have you brought me here?"

"Oh, Christine," he moaned, and the sound of his despair threw her. _What has happened? Has someone else been hurt? Why am I here?_

"Everything is okay," she said soothingly. "I'm fine; you're fine. But, I need to go home."

"Leave?" He looked at her then, shock written across his face. "You would leave me, then?"

She bit her lip. Erik was the strong one, the one who had all of the answers. She didn't understand what was happening, but she didn't like the fact that their roles were somehow reversed. "My friends will worry about me," she explained. "They will miss me. We can't have them worrying, can we?"

He shook his head fiercely and gripped her hands more tightly. "You don't understand," he groaned. "You can't leave. I won't _let _you leave."

Her heart began to pound harder as she rose from her chair, startling him. He didn't rise, only knelt by her feet. "What do you mean you won't _let _me leave?" she asked, her voice rising in her panic. "I want to go _home!" _

"Christine, look at me," Erik whispered, begging her with eyes alone to understand. Her eyes met his, which her glowing with some kind of strange intensity, and at last, she saw the answer: _"I love you." _

As she buried her face in her hands and began to cry, he sighed again and rose. "How _could _you?" she sobbed. "You're my teacher! This… this wasn't supposed to happen."

"But, it did," he said softly, oh so softly as he dared to smooth a stray strand of hair back into place. He tried to tell himself that it didn't hurt _too _terribly that she flinched and backed away. "I don't understand it either, Christine," he continued, trying to comfort her. However, the distraught girl wouldn't be comforted, so he could only confess the truth out-loud for both of them to hear for the first time. "All I know is that I love you," he added in a low voice.

"No," she insisted. She couldn't believe it… she _wouldn't _believe it.

"Yes," he cried passionately. To her amazement, all of his careful composure was gone as he for once showed her his true emotions. "I have given you a voice to rival that of the angels. I have watched over you and made sure no man harmed you. I have watched you and learned to understand you more than you even understand yourself! You were _born_ to be mine, Christine!"

Her eyes narrowed, and even in the midst of his despair, he had to admire her spirit. "Well, _Mr. Campion, _if you really loved me, you would let me go."

He shook his head sadly. "I can't, Christine. If I did, you would hide and tell everyone about me. You would tell the authorities, and they would hunt me down like an animal. I can't let you go until you learn to see me as a man… a man you could learn to trust and care about a little." He held out his hand, pleading with his eyes for forgiveness.

_If only you knew that I _did _trust you and care about you, _she thought bitterly. _But, not anymore. _"If you expect me to believe you now," she hissed, "you're gravely mistaken, sir." Then, she spun around and left him.

Erik watched her leave forlornly. _Oh, Christine, you don't love me yet… but one day, you will._

o0o

"Hello?"

"Hey, Raoul, it's Meg."

"Oh… hi," he said awkwardly.

"I was just wondering if you've heard from Christine at all today?"

_She must not know. _"No, I haven't. _I'm certainly not going to be the one to tell her, _he added internally.

"Okay. I haven't heard from her all day; she's not answering her phone or replying to her text messages. Will you tell her to call me if you do hear from her?"

"Sure." _Like she'll actually call me._

"Thanks."

Raoul hung up. What Christine did was her problem now.

Still… he couldn't quite ignore the nagging in his heart…

**Posted on November 11, 2010**


	20. Ethics

**Yay, another chapter for you guys! I'm almost finished with the next one, so it should be up soon. R & R!**

**Chapter Eighteen: Ethics **

_I should have known all along._

Christine was sitting on her bed. For the past hour, she had tried to sort out what had just happened to her.

_How did I not see it? _she inwardly raged. _How could I have been so stupidly blind? Why else would he have invested so much time in me? _She snorted in disgust. What kind of teacher was so heavily involved in a student's life? All she wanted was to leave and never come back. _I don't what he has done for me; I never want to see him again. Does he really think he has a right to just take people against their will? _Then, another thought struck her: _That explains why he insisted that I remain single. The very _nerve _of that man! _Frustrated beyond compare, she shrieked and punched her pillow.

Silence claimed the air for a split second.

Then, pounding footsteps could be heard. Christine groaned. _That's definitely not helping the 'I never want to see him again' factor. Great going._ She rolled off the bed right as Erik opened the door. The man and girl stared at each other, neither of them speaking. Erik pretended not to notice that she was standing in such a way that the bed was between them. Swallowing his irritation, he addressed her. "Are you alright? I heard you scream..."

She didn't bother to restrain from rolling her eyes. "Of course I'm not alright," she spat. "I woke this morning in a strange place with a sick, twisted pedophile claiming that he loves me. Forgive me if I'm not feeling too happy-go-lucky right now."

"I would never hurt you, Christine," he said quietly.

"Yet, you _would _take me," she shot back.

He shook his head, frustrated. "If my intentions were... banal, I could have acted upon them ten times by now." He could not understand her fear. Screaming, rage, fighting... He had expected all of this. His Christine was brave and spirited, but he hardly recognized the girl in front of him. He offered her his hand again. "I believe you didn't finish eating."

"I'm not hungry." She raised an eyebrow as if to say, _Seriously? Think again, buster. _

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but otherwise, he showed no sign of his irritation. Christine smirked. Perhaps she had more power than she originally thought. "I think I can persuade you otherwise," was all he said.

She sighed. "You aren't going to leave me alone until I can eat, are you?"

He smiled slightly. "No. Trust me in this: I'm the master here, and my word isn't to be disputed."

Seeing no way out of going with him, she walked around the bed and took his outstretched hand. "Your wish is my command," she muttered, "literally." Ignoring her sarcasm, Erik chose to celebrate his victory, minor though it was. After he led her back to the dining room, he pulled her chair away from the table for her. _What a gentlemen, _she thought sarcastically. She wasn't sure at the moment whether his etiquette amused or angered her. Thankfully, he sat across from her rather than next to her. He looked pointedly at the food in front of her, and she reluctantly took a bite. _At least he heated it, _she observed absent-mindedly. _And, at least Erik is decent enough not to stare, if the word "decent" can be applied to a kidnapper. But, he's right about one thing: if he had planned to hurt me from the beginning, he would have done it by now instead of going through all of this trouble._

"_I have watched over you and made sure no man harmed you. I have watched you and learned to understand you more than you even understand yourself! You were _born _to be mine!" _Those were the words he passionately proclaimed after she expressed doubt in his love for her. One thought in particular stuck out: _"I have watched you and learned to understand you more than you even understand yourself!" _Was that possible? She remembered all of the times he had been there for her, all of the times he had comforted her, and grudgingly, she admitted, _It's possible. If not that, it does show that he truly IS in love with me._

The thought wasn't a very comforting one.

"So, what now?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at her expectantly. "What do you mean?"

She used her fork to play with her food for a moment, not wanting to meet his gaze. "Well, you have me here now. What do you want out of me?" The way she saw it, frankness would be best, for she knew well enough by that point that Erik didn't like games. _Oh, he likes games, _the cynical side of her whispered, _as long as they are of his making._

One his hands clenched into a fist, but she didn't see it since his hand was under the table. "Christine, I told you, my intentions are…"

"Completely honorable," she finished dryly. "Yes, you told me. But, honorable intentions or not, you still _took _me. Do you not understand that?"

"You didn't give me much of a choice," he replied in a carefully calm voice. "I tried to go about this the proper way, but pushed me away over and over again. I do hate it when debtors fail to pay their dues."

"If you think I owe you _anything, _you're…"

"Oh, but you do, Christine," he answered in a voice so soft that she had to strain her ears to hear him. "Did I not tell you that you would have to pay me later?"

"You told me…" Then, she stopped, and to her horror, Erik's words rang through her memory: _"We can work out a method of payment at a later date." _Staring at him in disbelief, she shook her head wildly. "No… that's not… You've been planning this _all along? _How _sick _can you be?"

"Of course not!" His composure finally broke as he snapped. "Have you ever thought for just one moment that everything I have done has been for _you?" _As his temper increased, he rose, came to her side of the table, and leveled his face with her own. "I'm not afraid of you," she said in an even voice.

He laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound. "It would be wise of you to not tempt me, dear one," he hissed. "I cannot always be held responsible for my actions. I can be anything you want me to be: a friend, a confidante, an ardent lover... or I can be as cruel as you. You need to learn to see what is right in front of you, Christine."

The whole time he was displaying his frustration for her, she never winced or shed a tear. She felt nothing at all, and her dead tone hurt him more than his anger had affected her. "All I see in front of me is a man who stole my life. That is all I'll ever see."

Sighing, he stood. "Perhaps… perhaps you should go to your room." It wasn't a suggestion. She almost laughed. _He sounds just like my dad, sending me to my room whenever I tell him the truth. _Once they reached her bedroom, she entered it without saying another word to Erik. But, the moment she stepped across the doorway, she heard the door close and the lock turn.

"Hey!" she cried, surprised. "What are you doing?" She pounded at the door and twisted the knob, trying to make it open. "You don't have to lock the door; it's not like I know the way out, anyway! _Hey!" _It was no use. The door wasn't going to open.

_What a jerk! _her mind screamed. Not knowing what else to do, she went over to her bed and curled up under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard someone crying outside of her room, but she didn't care.

o0o

Erik listened to her scream at him, but he didn't move. He couldn't take the risk of her finding her way out. So, he only waited until there was silence.

"_All I see in front of me is a man who stole my life. That is all I'll ever see," _she had said. But, that couldn't be true! She had trusted him once; surely she could learn to trust him again. It infuriated him to see her this way and to have her forget everything he had done for her. _What more does she want? Why can I not be enough for her? _Then, as he leaned his forehead against the door, he began to cry the sorrowful tears of one who has lost everything.

o0o

Meg paced the floor anxiously. Christine hadn't contacted her in almost a day now, and to say that she was worried was an understatement. She could only take so much of her best-friend mysteriously disappearing. She called her again only to reach her voicemail.

Raoul hadn't been any help at all. Though she didn't say it, she was mad that he didn't seem to care that Christine just wasn't _there. _He might pass it off as Christine being dumb, but Meg knew better, and in her heart, she knew that her friend was in trouble.

Shaking, she sat down and dialed a number. A man's voice answered. _You have reached 911. What is your emergency?_

"Hi, my name is Meg Giry." _It's up to me now to get Christine back. _"I need to report a missing person."

**Posted on November 14, 2010**


	21. Gilded

** Chapter Nineteen: Gilded**

Christine hadn't expected it to be so bad. At first, she thought the maid would return, and she hoped she could persuade her to help. Unfortunately, she didn't come back. To her dismay, Erik himself brought her food, which she only pushed around with her fork, for she couldn't stand to eat while he was watching her. He never spoke to her, and it drove her mad. _What was the point in taking me if he's just going to treat me like a pet? _She tried to provoke him at first for the sole purpose of seeing some emotion in him, but he remained aloof. She tried tears, threats, anger, everything… but he still wouldn't speak to her. He would come, wait for her to eat (or play with her food), take her tray again, and leave until the next mealtime.

Eventually, she ignored him just like he ignored her. She kept count of the time that passed by the times he came to her. Yet, she was lonely. She hated to admit it, but before long, she wished he would talk to her and they could be like they were not so long ago. Still, her pride and stubbornness kept her from apologizing for her behavior.

Erik endured it all patiently. He knew she was wearing down. As much as he wanted her to stop being childish and accept her new life, he knew she couldn't do that until she had satisfied her need to be difficult. Sometimes, he almost gave in, but he needed to teach her that there were consequences for disobeying him. So, he waited. He would win in the end… he always did. It was only a matter of time.

o0o

The woman hesitated at the door, unsure if she should enter. Mr. Campion _did _place a high value on his privacy, but she was worried. After all, the girl hadn't left her room for a long time, and she was hardly eating. She raised her hand to knock on the door.

"You might as well enter, Mary."

Trying not to look spooked, she entered her master's study. He appeared amused. _How does he always seem to know everything?" _she wondered.

"Yes?" he inquired, setting down his book.

"Forgive me for intruding, sir," she apologized timidly, "but about the girl…"

"What about her?" Though he continued to sound nonchalant, she saw his body grow slightly stiff, and his eyes darkened and sent her an unspoken warning. Mary hastily continued, "She… well, she hasn't left her room in quite a while…"

"Ah." His expression cleared, and he relaxed. "I wouldn't spend too much time worrying."

"But, sir, she won't eat."

He waved her anxieties aside. "Trust me; I know her. She will leave her room when she is ready."

Just then, they heard a young woman's voice crying, "Alright, Erik! I'm waving the white flag, here! Let me out, please?"

Marguerite's mouth dropped open. "Sir… you _locked _her door?" She had thought the girl was merely being stubborn when she saw the nearly full trays that were taken from her room! Her master's grin, however, took all of the doubt out of her mind.

"I did," he affirmed calmly as he rose from his seat. "I took her food, of course, but she wasn't hungry. It seems she is ready to leave her room now. If you will excuse me, I have a damsel in distress beckoning me."

The poor maid didn't know what shocked her most: Mr. Campion's grin or the fact that he had actually carried trays of food to the young girl's room. Shaking her head, she thought, _If Mr. Campion did that for _me, _I'd have a hard time staying mad at him. I guess even he has a heart. Perhaps pigs are flying now, too._

o0o

She tried to keep herself from giving in, she truly did. But, it wasn't in her nature to spend all of her time alone. She craved company, and if her only option was to seek out her captor, then so be it. With an expression similar to that of a petulant child, she called the name she disliked most.

"Alright, Erik! I'm waving the white flag, here! Let me out, please?" Walking over to the door, she pounded it with her fist. _"Hey!" _Did you here me? Come on; answer me!" Right before she hit the door again, it opened. Startled, she stumbled forward… right into Erik's arms.

He smirked as her face turned red. "My, my, Christine! When you said you were waving the white flag, I didn't think you meant this!"

She glared at him as she pulled away. "It wasn't intentional and you know it," she snapped. "I tripped."

"Of course you did, darling." He barely suppressed his smile as she scowled. He loved every bit of her, especially that fire that made her so unique. It was quite amusing at times.

"Shut up. Leave me alone."

He couldn't help himself as he roared with laughter. "Leave you alone?"

"Yes. Go away," she said sulkily.

He sighed theatrically. "If you insist, my dear." She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. While his tone was solemn, his eyes were shining with mischief. "It's a pity," he continued as though speaking only to himself. "I thought she would like to go outside, but no… Christine prefers her little room…"

_Outside. _For the first time, she realized that she hadn't seen outside the house in days. Like most people, she took sunshine and fresh air for granted. Now that Erik had spoken of them, she longed for them with every fiber of her being. She knew his intention all along had been to make her leave her room, and he succeeded.

"You play dirty," she muttered. Moving quickly before he could change his mind, she left the room. Chuckling, he led her to a room filled with light. Blinking and trying to adjust her eyes, she saw a grand piano close to the center, commanding reverence. A violin case was next to it, and shelves filled with sheet music and books covered one entire wall. She inhaled in shock, awed by the room's beauty. While other parts of the house appeared dark and intimidating, this room oddly made her feel relaxed. Perhaps it was the sand-colored walls or the watercolors that adorned them, but for a moment, she forgot herself and eagerly walked over to the piano. She ran her fingers along it, greeting it like a long-lost friend.

"Do you like my music room?" She turned and saw Erik watching her. He hadn't known what to expect, but her reaction pleased him. She actually smiled at him as she said with sincerity, "It's beautiful."

"Thank you. It's my favorite room in the entire house." He walked over to her and gently lifted the lid of the piano. "Do you play?"

The offer was too great for her to resist, and although she berated herself, she sat down on the bench. "A little."

He reached over and looked through the pieces of music that were on the piano. For the hundredth time, she studied him. He was wearing black pants and a white shirt that exposed his throat. As much as she didn't want to be there or like anything about him, she couldn't deny that he was attractive. "Here," he said, not telling her that he noticed she was watching him. "Play this."

A simple minuet was before her. She read over it for a few moments, and then, she began to play. She faltered at first due to lack of practice and nerves, but she improved towards the end. Once she was finished, he applauded, making her blush. "My mom taught me to play a long time ago, but I'm very out-of-practice," she explained apologetically.

"Nonsense," he replied. "You did quite well. You are a talented sight-reader."

His praise flattered her, as always. _I suppose that will never change, _she thought ruefully. _He's a musical genius; there's no doubting it. I guess I can't help it that I want his approval. _Rising, she closed the piano lid carefully. He smiled at the care she took with the instrument. "I do believe you agreed to take me outside?" she pointedly reminded him.

"Yes, I did. But, if you ever want to come back and play, you have only to ask," he told her.

"I would like that very much," she said earnestly. Then, they went into the backyard. Christine's eyes widened as she took in the large, green lawn and fountain. Trees were towards the back, appearing to be the edge of a forest. Even though it was cold outside, she didn't care and she closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. When she opened her eyes, she saw Erik watching her once again with an amused expression on his face.

"You could have brought me outside sooner, you know." Her smile took any sting out of her words.

"All you had to do was ask," he stated as though it was obvious. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You make it all sound so simple…"

"Because it is," he finished for her. "You are a proud person, Christine Daaë."

"As are you," she countered. He laughed then. When he laughed - truly laughed - he was a completely different person from the grim man she'd first known. The sound of his laughter was beautiful, like a kind of music. The wind ruffled his hair, and she had the insane urge to run her fingers through its slightly wavy tresses. _Where did _that _thought come from? _she wondered.

"I will not deny it," he said easily. "Still, don't be afraid to ask me for something if you truly want it."

One desire entered her mind, but she kept it to herself. _I suppose my freedom would be too much to ask for, _she thought, some of her frustration returning.

Erik saw her conversing with herself, and he was confused as her brow furrowed. _What I would give to know what goes on in that mind of hers. _"You don't believe me?"

Coming back to reality, she shook her head once more. "No, I do."

"What is it, then?" he asked softly, stepping closer. She could smell his masculine scent and see the flecks of gold in his eyes, which were gazing into hers anxiously. For a moment, she recalled the day at her father's grave when his hand caressed her face. Another mad impulse of wanting to feel his hand again raced through her. Swallowing and forcing herself to be logical, she looked away.

"Nothing," she whispered. "It doesn't matter."

Sensing she didn't want to talk about it to him, he changed the subject. "Come with me. I have something I want to show you." He offered her his arm, but she pretended not to see it. Pushing away the feelings of rejection, he led past the patio and farther back into the yard. As they went into the trees, she asked, "Is your yard a forest or something."

"Hardly," he replied. "But, I do enjoy them, so I made my own." He stopped suddenly, and she almost ran into him. "What?"

"We're here."

She looked around but didn't see anything. "Where?"

He pointed, and she could see a bit of white. "What is that?"

"Why don't you go and find out?" he suggested. Taking his advice, she walked forward until she reached a gazebo. Enchanted by its ethereal beauty, she sat on one of the benches. Erik followed her and sat next to her, though he allowed her room for comfort.

"This whole place feels like something out of a fairy-tale," she commented. The scene before her couldn't have been more picturesque. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was streaked with gold and pink. She briefly wondered exactly at the extravagance of his house and lifestyle, but she didn't want to be rude by asking, _"So, how rich are you, exactly?" _Besides, she wasn't sure she would believe the answer.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, for once looking completely at ease. She couldn't help but think that he looked like he belonged here. While his mask was odd and intimidating when placed in the rest of the world, it was only mysterious and intriguing in the otherworldly setting of the forest. _He looks like a prince or something. _The idea made her giggle slightly. Erik raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"We should go inside now," he said after a while, rising. She looked up at the sky and realized that the sun was almost out of sight. Sighing, she stood. "I suppose so," she admitted reluctantly. "Can we come back here sometime?"

Pleased that she had asked _we _instead of _I, _he answered, "If that would please you, then yes." Again, he offered her his arm, and this time, she took it gratefully. As they walked, she thought, _It really is sad… everything would be perfect if he hadn't felt like he had to force me to come here. This place is beautiful… but a gilded cage is still a cage._

Guilt kicked in at that moment. _Erik has been nothing but a gentleman. Everything he has done has been for you._

_Gentlemen don't kidnap young women, _the logical side of her reasoned. _That certainly wasn't for you; that was pure selfishness. _Withdrawing from his side after they re-entered the house, she said, "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"It was a pleasure," he replied simply. "It's an honor to share my world with you." Checking his watch, he proceeded to ask, "Are you hungry?"

As though it had a mind of its own, her stomach growled. "Starving." Following him, they went to dinner. She enjoyed his company immensely, but at the back of her mind, she couldn't forget the blatant truth: _He took me. He took me, and even though he's sharing all of this splendor with me, nothing will change that._

And, to her further dismay, the thought made her sad.

o0o

Nadir flipped through the channels, searching for something interesting in order to take his mind off his worries. Just as he was about to give up, he saw something that made him almost fall out of his chair.

"_Christine Daa__ë has been missing for over three days now, according to her best-friend, Meg Giry. Her boyfriend, Raoul de Changy, has offered a reward of $20,000 for any helpful information regarding her disappearance."_

_A shot of a young man with blond hair and blue eyes appeared on the screen. "Please… whoever you are, let Christine go," he begged in a heartfelt voice. "No questions will be asked, no charges pressed. Just give her back to us, alive and well. Please…"_

There was more, but Nadir didn't hear any of it as his blood ran cold. _Erik… what have you done?_

**Posted on November 21, 2010**


	22. Forgetting

**I hate that it has been so long. I'm trying to juggle everything, and my writing has sadly been pushed aside. Please R&R and I'll try to update soon.**

**Chapter Twenty: Forgetting**

"Start from the beginning," the officer wearily suggested to the young man. "Tell us everything." This case was proving to be more difficult than it should have been, and if he was honest with himself, he wouldn't be investing so much time in it if the boy wasn't harrassing him so much.

"I _have _told you everything!" Raoul protested, frustrated. "She wouldn't return my calls. I... I didn't think anything of it because we had a disagreement the last time I saw her. But," he added with a sidelong glance at Meg, "when Meg told me that she hadn't heard from her, either, I became worried."

"That's when we contacted the police," Meg added.

The policeman sighed. "How long has she been missing?"

"Almost three days now."

"Does Miss Daaë have a habit of going off by herself?"

Raoul and Meg exchanged looks. "Not really," Meg replied. "She's pretty quiet for the most part, but I've never had trouble getting in touch with her before now. Well... except..." she broke off uneasily as a sudden thought crossed her mind.

"Except what?" the officer asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Once... and _only _once, I couldn't reach her," she slowly recollected. "She wouldn't answer her phone for almost a day. I know that probably sounds silly, but Christine is easy to reach if you need her," she finished.

"When was this?" Raoul demanded. The blond shot an annoyed glance at him. Obviously, he wasn't only pestering the authorities in his mad seach for his little girlfriend.

"It was a few days before her father's death; about a week ago, I think," she told them. The officer suddenly had an understanding look on his face, and Raoul looked disturbed. _Five days ago... wasn't that when..._

"I know this isn't what you want to hear," began the officer, interrupting the boy's thoughts, "but technically, we can't label her as a runaway. Have you considered the possibility that she's meeting someone in secret? An affair, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed the boy, disgust evident on his face. The girl, however, didn't look like she completely agreed.

"Don't you think, Raoul..."

:"No," he insisted vehemently. "Christine isn't like that." Remorse filled him as he remembered his own accusations. _If only I'd realized that sooner."_

The officer yawned. The hour was late, and he was tired. "Why don't we call it a night? You two can come back tomorrow afternoon, and we'll see if we can think of anything useful."

"Call it a night? But..." Meg gentley touched Raoul's arm to silence him. "That would be best. Thank you for your time. Let's go, Raoul." With that, they left his office.

"How can you give up on Christine?" Raoul accused as soon as they were outside.

"I'm not giving up on her!" Meg retorted, her eyes flashing angrily. "There's only so much we can do right now, and we aren't helping her by wearing out the authorities. Go home, get some rest, and call me tomorrow so we can meet back here." She didn't wait for a reply; she simply walked away, fed up with both Raoul's attitude and the policemen's callous treatment of Christine's disappearance. As she started her car, she remembered the way Raoul had kept her from saying what had been on her mind. But, while Raoul seemed believed whatever struck his fancy, Meg was only desperate to find the truth before it was too late.

o0o

_You're being stupid, _she scolded herself. Yet, how could she resist the invitation to sing? She hadn't sung in nearly a week, and she missed it sorely. So, when he asked her to join him in the music room, she was powerless to resist. The musical called to her, and she eagerly answered.

_Of course, he WOULD pick something tragically romantic, _she thought as they sang a duet from _Tristan und Isolde. _She knew the story well, and it made her uneasy that they were singing about two ardent lovers who died because of their love. She resisted the urge to snort at the irony. _Typical opera. _

Still, she couldn't deny that the sound of Erik's voice took her breath away. No matter what, his voice - and her reaction to it - was a never-changing constant in an unstable world. When he sang, it was so easy to forget everything else, even the depth of his crimes against her. It did more than simply wipe away her memory; rather, it brought back the pleasant memories back when things were less complicated.

When they sang together, all seemed to be right in the world again.

Finally, the song ended, and they stood together awkwardly. Afraid that he would leave and unwilling to remember everything, Christine asked, "Erik, can we sing another one?"

Though surprised, he kept it from his voice and only sounded politely interested. "Of course, Christine. What did you have in mind?"

A mischevious thought crept into her head, and she grinned. "Can we sing something silly?"

"Silly?" he repeated, sounding horrified. When she nodded, he asked, "What did you have in mind?"

One of the first things Christine learned about Erik was that he despised _Broadway _show tunes for the most part. But, Christine was curious to see what would happen if she teased him. Without warning, she launched heartily into the silliest song she could think of at the moment.

Her performance was rudely interrupted within moments as Erik quickly covered her mouth with his hand. Laughing, she pulled away and continued to sing, only to be grabbed by Erik again.

"Stop!" he groaned. She shook her head, and he started tickling her. Shrieking and giggling, she turned and tried to get away. "Erik! Stop!" she gasped.

"Promise me you'll stop," he ordered, his voice playfully threatening her.

"Yes! I promse!" Then, he let her go, and she leaned against the piano as she caught her breath, still giggling. When she looked up again, Erik was standing directly in front of her, his eyes warm and a smile on his face. He was awfully close to her... Their laughter slowly died away as they looked at each other. Slowly and ever so carefully, he brushed a stray strand of hair off her face, and her eyelids fluttered shut. He leaned in, and her heart started racing. _No... this isn't right, _her mind argued weakly, but she didn't protest as he lowered his head...

... and then, the doorbell rang.

**Posted on December 11, 2010**


	23. Backwards

**This will probably be the last chapter I can upload before Christmas; just a heads-up. Merry Christmas, guys! Glad tidings of joy to all of you! **

**Chapter Twenty-one: Backwards**

Before Erik could say anything, Christine pulled away. Her eyes were wide, and they shot daggers to Erik's heart. _I should have known... she's not ready, _he scolded himself. Muttering "I'm sorry," he quickly made his way to the door. Irritation began forming, and he tried to ignore it, but it almost exploded when he saw who was standing on the other side of the door.

"Ah, Daroga," he purred, venom in his voice. "How good of you to visit." Christine was confused, for she could hear his tone of voice, and she could see his shoulders tensing. A doorbell ringing seemed harmless enough, but Erik's reaction was enough to put her on edge.

"You know why I'm here, Erik," the man said quietly.

"No, I don't, I assure you. But, I have the distinct feeling you're going to tell me." Erik moved slightly so he was standing in front of Christine, blocking her. _Is he blocking my view of him or the man's view of me? _she couldn't help but wonder.

"Where is she?" he asked, still in the same quiet voice.

"That is none of your business," Erik hissed, warning him. "Leave us alone. You really ought to stop meddling in other people's affiars, Nadir; it's not good for your health," he finished softly, his voice menacing. Christine gasped and turned pale. Both men turned to face her. Erik's guest was a middle-aged man who seemed to be of Arabian descent. When he saw Christine, his eyes widened. "Miss Daaë," he began, but Erik didn't let him finish.

"Go to your room, Christine," he said, his tone suddenly gentle. She blinked and started to rise.

"Don't, Erik," said the Arab man angrily. "Perhaps we should take this conversation inside since you're so set on being difficult?"

"Perhaps you should leave," Erik shot back rudely.

"I'm not leaving until I have some answers, Erik! A search party is looking for her, led by her _boyfriend, _as we speak!"

Both Erik and Christine froze. "Raoul?" she gasped. Erik's gaze instantly turned towards her, his eyes murderous.

"The audacity..."

"By all means, please come inside, Mr. ...?" Christine's voice interrupted. She could see the situation was quickly becoming out of hand, and she wanted to give both men time to calm down before they started lunging at each other's throats.

Though startled at first by her invitation, he smiled at her tiredly. "Mr. Nadir Khan, Miss Daaë, at your service."

"Well, do come inside; it's quite chilly out there," she replied brightly. She led both men inside. One was cautious while the other was downright confused. _What game is she playing? _Erik asked of himself.

Christine, on her part, was trying to think of a gameplan. Still, when she saw Erik's anxiety, she couldn't resist. She smirked at him ever so slightly, and he clenched his fists. _I really don't want to have to kill Nadir, but if he tries to take her from me, I'll do it without thinking twice, _he vowed as he glowered at the little vixen. As they walked, she heard a voice next to her ear. _"Say one word and he dies, Christine." _Startled, she looked at him. His eyes, wide and innocent, met hers without faltering, but she knew that he was serious. She turned, and he passed her, grasping her wrist as he did.

_"I mean it, Christine," _he warned. _"Tell him you are happy here, or you're going to be sorry." _With that, he let go, and the moment passed.

Eventually, they all were sitting in a dimly lit room that contained a couch, an armchair, a fireplace, and a coffee table as well as several shelves. Erik sat on one end of the couch, and Nadir sat in the armchair. So, by default, Christine was forced to sit next to him. She felt Erik's hand twitch next to her, and she knew he was repressing an urge to take her hand.

_Why do we always have to slide two steps backwards when we finally take one foward? _she wondered. Ten minutes ago, they had been laughing together like any normal... yes, any normal couple. Now, while they were sitting next to each other, a brick wall stood between them.

Nadir cleared his throat. "Miss Daaë, can you tell me how long you've been here?"

She thought for a moment. "Perhaps three days?" she guessed.

"And, how long have you... known Erik?" he asked delicately, well aware of the glare being sent his way.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Perhaps three months now?"

"How did you become acquainted with him?"

She sighed, her nerve beginning to break. "Look, did you come here to check on me or interrogate me?" Nadir blushed and Erik smiled. _It serves him right, nosy old fool._

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just want to have an informed report for your friends," he added gently. He noticed the pain that flashed through her eyes when he spoke of her friends. _She's hiding something, _he realized. Then, he took a deep breath and asked the most sensitive question: "Miss Daaë, are you here on your own free will?"

She hesitated for one moment, trying to avoid looking at Erik. _No matter what I do, I'm going to hurt someone, _she thought bitterly. _And, as much as I ought to hate Erik, I can't, and I really don't want to hurt him. _"Yes, I am," she replied with an air of defiance. Only she heard Erik's quiet sigh of relief.

_Can it be? _Nadir wondered in astonishment. Christine's eyes were looking into his as though daring him to dispute her word. But, surely it wasn't possible. "Christine." She jumped as he used her first name, and Erik growled. "Have you ever seen him without his mask?" She immediately gave it away. She glanced at Erik uneasily, who was on his feet in an instant.

"She has told you that she is here of her own free will, Daroga," he stated coldly. "Will you be so kind to leave us in peace now?"

Nadir rose. "Yes, I will. Before I leave, however; what might I tell your friends, Miss Daaë?" He used her last name just to be safe.

Christine swallowed. "Tell... tell them I've made my choice. Please don't tell them I'm with Erik; Raoul... he's very jealous."

"He's your boyfriend, Miss Daaë. He has a right to be jealous."

She shook her head. "No, he's not. I... ended our relationship a week ago." She glanced at Erik again. "If he's telling the authorities that I'm his girlfriend, he's lying."

"Say goodbye, Nadir," Erik said pointedly. The Iranian smiled at the young girl kindly. "Have a nice day, Miss Daaë. I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Don't count on it," Erik muttered as he showed him to the door. When they were out of Christine's hearing, he demanded, "Why did you come here? I know you won't go to the police unless you have concrete evidence against me, and even that is questionable."

"I just wanted to make sure she was alright," Nadir answered in a low voice. "I haven't even spoken to the authorities or Christine's friends."

"You've seen her. You know she is alright, and I have no intention whatsoever of hurting her. Now, I want you to go away and never pester me again."

Nadir shook his head sadly. "As long as Christine is with you, I'll come back. I have to be certain..."

"Certain of what?" Erik snapped.

"I can't leave you alone until I'm convinced that she's in love with you."

"I don't see how that's any of your business!"

"Erik!" Nadir put his hands on Erik's shoulders. "You don't understand, do you? I didn't come here because I was worried about Christine's search party finding you. I'm far more worried about someone else finding you, someone you can destroy everything."

Understanding finally dawned upon Erik. "You mean..."

"Yes, Erik," Nadir said, nodding. "Joseph Buquet is searching, too."

Erik stepped back, stunned. "I should've killed him while I had the chance," he growled. "The little..."

"It doesn't matter now," Nadir interrupted. "If he finds you, he'll kill you and take Christine. There's only one way to guarantee her safety... only one way to bind her to you by law."

Horrified, Erik shook his head. "No, I... I can't! She already distrusts me! I can't do that to her..."

"It's the only way," Nadir said softly. "You're going to have to marry her."

o0o

Christine remained on the couch, her head in her hands. She didn't look up when she heard Erik enter the room. "Why?"

"Why what?" he asked smoothly.

"Why do we have to slide backwards every time we make the least bit of progress?"

"I wish I knew," he honestly replied. She exhaled shakily, and he saw tears in her eyes. He looked down and softly said, "Christine, we're going to have to be married soon."

Her head jerked up. "What?"

"I... you're going to have to marry me." The hurt in her eyes shook him, so he hastily finished. "Khan won't leave me alone until I can prove to him that you're happy, and the only way to do that is to..."

"Stop," she ordered quietly. "He's gone; there's no more need for secrecy. I want the truth. I think I deserve some answers. Give me a real reason, Erik."

He nodded and sat next to her, running his hand through his hair wearily. "Your friends aren't the only ones who are trying to find you, Christine." He paused, and then decided to be frank with her. "Joseph Buquet is looking for you as well."

"What? How... _why?" _she gasped, astonished. Seeing her terror, a surge of anger swept over him.

"He has never forgiven either of us for besting him," he told her. "He not only didn't acquire what he wanted for the first time in his life, but also, the person he hates most in the world witnessed it." They were silent for a moment. Then, he added, "That's why we have to marry."

"You know what's funny?" she asked suddenly. He didn't respond, so she took it as a sign to continue. "You didn't have a reason to worry about Raoul."

"Of course I did," he said, his voice rough. "You were in a relationship with him."

"Key word: 'were.' Remember the day my father was buried?" He nodded. "On the way home, Raoul told me that I had to chose between him and you. And... I chose you."

"You what?" he asked disbelievingly.

"It was more important to have you as a teacher than to have Raoul as a boyfriend," she explained tiredly. "But, when you took me, you... you took away my right to chose." She looked at him and saw that she had his complete attention. "Give me the opportunity to choose for myself, Erik," she quiely requested. "Please... ask me, just this once."

Nodding slowly, he went onto his knees in front of her. Gently, he took her hands in his. The fact that his hands were shaking slightly soothed her own inhibitions. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was sure he could hear it.

"Christine," he breathed ever so tenderly. He was going to marry her whether she said yes or not, but still, he was giving her an opportunity to choose... an opportunity to reject him again. "Will you marry me?" His voice came out in a whisper, and he held his breath. She smiled sadly and squeezed his hands.

"Yes, Erik," she answered in the faintest of sighs. "I will marry you."

**Posted on December 22, 2010**


	24. Interlude: Illusions and Reality

**I know this is short, but hopefully, this will clear up a few of the misunderstandings about Erik and Christine's situation. Merry Christmas to all of you! Remeber that we celebrate because of God's gift to mankind! **

**Interlude: Illusions and Reality**

She said yes.

I could hardly believe my ears. True, we would have married even if she said no, but by asking her, she was given the power to hurt me once again. I really do think that Christine underestimates her power over me. Knowing that she _chose _to say yes filled me with elation. Now, she would truly be mine.

I hadn't lied when I told her why we must wed; however, I did leave out my own personal reasons. I didn't tell her that I had longed for us to be joined in matrimony since I first realized I can't live without her. Not that I would have pressured her under normal circumstances.

Ha! Normal... Chritine's and my relationship was anything but normal. But, I digress.

Part of my surprise concerning her acceptance of my proposal was due to her lack of understanding. Oh, she _thought _she understood, but I was above the illusion that our wedding would be a pretty affair. In reality, it was quite grim, caused by a need for desperate measures. I needed us to be legally binded. If Buquet somehow found a way to take her, I would be able to legally pursue them. Even if it was believed that she wanted to be with him, our marriage would give me grounds to seek contact with Christine. After all, she would own a share of everything by that point... not that there was anything I wouldn't have given her had she merely asked.

Perhaps her fear of the vile Buquet drove her to accept me. As much as I angered her when I took her from the world without consent, her hatred of the lowlife professor out-weighed any animosity she might have harbored towards me. I suppose it was comforting to know that she preferred me over Buquet, at least.

Still, I couldn't allow myself to be swept away by illusions, even though I was sorely tempted. I wanted to believe that she was marrying me because she loved me, but the cynical side of me kept me grounded in reality. But, oh! How I wanted to lose myself in her!

True, she said yes, but that didn't mean things had changed between us. My dreams were still only illusions.

**Posted on December 25, 2010**


	25. Lost

**I know it has been a long time, and I'm sorry. But, my Grandmama was in the hospital and died a few days ago, so I haven't been able to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it's worth the wait.**

**Chapter Twenty-two: Lost**

She stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Desperate to be in solitude as long as possible, Christine had locked herself inside her room.

When she first woke, she had – for a few precious moments – not remembered. Then, it hit her: _I'm going to be married today. _This was confirmed when she found a white gown in her closet. It was beautiful; she couldn't deny it. But, it bothered her that it was the dress she would have picked if given her own choice. She clenched her fists until her nails scratched her little hands. _It's not fair! _her mind and heart screamed. What girl doesn't want to try on dress after dress until finding the perfect one with a mother or sister? Christine had dreamed of the day when she would have a loving fiancé and plan her wedding with her loved ones. Yet, she had been denied that common privilege, and the man she was marrying was never one she would have imagined herself choosing in her wildest dreams. What should have been a joyous occasion was instead a tragedy.

Fortunately, Erik agreed to wait two days before the wedding, sensing that his future bride needed time to adjust. Christine was thankful, but all the time in the world couldn't take away the feeling that she had been robbed. There were so many things she used to want to do before marriage… she had dreamed of traveling to France and Italy to see art and the famous opera houses. She wanted to grow her singing career and perform on stage. She wanted to be young and make mistakes and learn how to be independent the hard way.

But, now… there was only Erik.

Shivers traveled over her spine as she looked at herself. She didn't recognize the girl in the mirror. Christine had been hardly more than a child with dreamy eyes and a sad smile not four months ago. Then, Erik entered her life and completely turned her world upside-down. He made her feel alive for the first time in her life. Never before had she known that she was capable of feeling such strong emotions: horror, anger, despair, empathy… and love.

What she had told Erik was true. She had chosen him over Raoul… over the rational world, even. Yet, she hadn't told him everything. She hadn't told him how much she needed him, the gratitude she felt towards him. Erik was darkness and power and alluring, whereas she was insecure and innocent and naïve. They were complete opposites, yet, she somehow felt attracted to him in a similar way that a moth is attracted to a lantern.

When he took her, she panicked. She didn't know what to do when she finally realized that he loved her. Indeed, she had never seen such passionate and consuming love before, and it frightened her. So, she fought him. She tried to push him away and to make herself hate him, but she still couldn't deny that she had placed herself into his power when she asked him to train her voice. The music they created bound them together until they were inseparable.

Despite all of this, she still couldn't love him. She was too afraid, too young… too weak. He would demand all of her; her timid affection wasn't enough to satiate his thirst, and she wasn't ready to return such a deep love. By allowing and returning his love, she would lose herself. She shook her head. _I'm sorry, Erik… but I'm not brave enough to love you._

o0o

Erik waited anxiously in the hallway. He was dressed in proper bridegroom's attire, but he knew that he wasn't what most women would consider a knight in shining armor. _What am I doing? _he wondered. He knew that he was about to destroy all of Christine's fairy-tales. Oh, he could tell himself that he was acting in her best interest by marrying her, but he couldn't deny the truth: he wanted Christine as his own, living bride. While he wouldn't have _forced _her to marry him under other circumstances, he was glad and relieved that she couldn't run back to that infernal boy of hers. No, she was going to be his by the end of the day. If she would only hurry…

As if on cue, the bedroom door opened, and Christine was standing before him. His breath caught in his throat, rendering him speechless for the first time in his life.

_She is so beautiful… and she is mine._

While Christine had always been beautiful, she was even more so on their wedding day. She looked fragile and ethereal and so completely _his _that he wanted to crush her against him and never let her go. However, he knew that would be most inconsiderate, so he settled for a gentle compliment. "You look lovely, my dear."

Her smile was strained. They had avoided each other over the last couple of days. The knowledge that they were going to be married somehow made them not want to be around each other. On Erik's part, it was fear that she would change her mind. Christine just didn't want to remember her impending fate.

"Thank you," she replied so quietly that he almost missed it. He offered her his arm, and she took it without meeting his eyes. In silence, they walked to the backyard. Rose petals were scattered on the pathway that led to the fountain, and in front of the fountain stood a minister.

Christine froze, unable to take another step. "I can't do this," she whispered brokenly, turning pleading eyes on Erik as she pulled away from him. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Christine; we have no choice," he told her softly, hating that he had put that pain into her eyes. "And… it won't be so horrible being married to me," he added earnestly. "I'm not a monster."

His words hit her. _"I'm not a monster." _No, he wasn't a monster. He wasn't some kind of angel or prince, nor was he a villain or a demon. He was just… a man.

And, he was a man who loved her.

She swallowed. "I know." He took her hand, and she gripped it tightly, somehow finding courage in its grasp. Moments later, they were standing before the minister.

Christine didn't hear any of the minister's words. She kept thinking that any moment now, she would wake from this strange dream. _It's not real, _she insisted faintly. _It can't be real…_

"Young lady, you haven't said 'I do,'" the minister told her with a warm and what she supposed was an understanding smile. She looked back at Erik, her eyes wide. He looked frozen, showing no emotion on his face… but then, she heard his voice by her ear.

_"You don't have to love me, Christine," _he promised. Her eyes closed briefly, and a tear slid down her face. _"I will never hurt you or make demands of you if only you will be my bride. I love you…"_

Her eyes opened, and in one breath that seemed to make the world stand still, she met his eyes. "I do."

There was no turning back now.

"You may kiss the bride."

Christine stiffened. Erik noticed and sighed before brushing his fingers against her cheek and kissing her forehead tenderly. The minister smiled broadly.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

o0o

As if in a daze, Erik led her back to the sitting room after the minister left. Christine sank into one of the chairs, suddenly exhausted. _I'm a married woman now…_

"You are a good girl, Christine," Erik said quietly. He sat next to her on the couch and took her hand in his and absent-mindedly began stroking her wedding ring. He was proud to see the gold band on her finger. She didn't know it, but the inside of the band read, _"Fate links me to thee forever and a day!" _He wished that one simple ring meant as much to her as it did to him.

She smiled sadly. "I am, aren't I?" she murmured. Then, to his surprise, she rested her head against his shoulder. He didn't move for several moments, afraid that he would frighten her away. _Oh, Christine… I love you so much…_

The sun faded as they just sat there. Christine's mind was frayed, and she found Erik's shoulder oddly comforting. All too soon, he rose. "Are you hungry, darling?" She shook her head. "No," she answered in a faint voice. "I only want to go to bed."

He nodded, and as he took her hand and began leading her, she suddenly panicked. "No! No, no…" She wouldn't – she _couldn't _– sleep with him. She was far too weak to let him…

"Christine." His voice froze her. His hand moved under her chin, and in a moment, she was looking into his eyes.

"I promised you that I would never make demands of you. Why can you not believe me?" Shame flooded her face as she lowered her eyes to the floor, and she heard him sigh. "I suppose I haven't given you much of a reason to believe my promises, have I?" She looked up again, her mind whirling in confusion. The man before her was her teacher, her confidante, the one who had given her voice wings to fly… and she was still terrified of him.

Without another word, Erik simply lifted her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. He set her on the floor in the bathroom and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Furiously, she rinsed her face in cold water before looking into the mirror. She was so pale that it frightened her, and her large, dark eyes looked eerie and out of place. After changing into her nightclothes, she left the bathroom and tucked herself into the bed. Just as she closed her eyes, she heard her bedroom door open softly. Shocked, her eyes flew open… and there was Erik. He didn't look at her as he climbed into the bed beside her. In terror, she clutched the covers to her frame and whispered, "But… but you promised…"

"Christine," he said, his voice sounding spent, "I'm not going to break my promise to you. But, I'm very tired, and I only want to hold my wife…"

_"My wife." _It was such a simple phrase, but it sounded so different coming from… well, her husband. Slowly, she nodded. Cautiously, as though he half-expected her to bite him, he put his arms around her and drew her close. She could feel the fast rhythm of his heart, and she smiled. "Goodnight, Erik," she said softly.

"Goodnight, darling. I love you."

"I know." In moments, she was asleep while Erik lay there, pondering. Of course, _"I know" _wasn't _"I love you…" _but still, it was more than what he had hoped.

Perhaps they could have a happily-ever-after, after all…

**Posted on January 11, 2011**


	26. Tangled

**I know it has been a long time, but life has been crazy lately. I don't know when I can upload the next chapter, so please be patient. I love all of you for reviewing, and thank you for your sympathy about my grandmama. You guys are the best.**

**Chapter Twenty-three: Tangled**

"Impossible!" Raoul cried when he heard the news.

Nadir shook his head. He could see why Erik held such a dislike for this young man. While he often meant well, he was irritatingly stubborn and wouldn't believe the truth unless it suited him. _Well, ALMOST truth, _he edited in his mind. "I'm sorry, but that's what she said."

"I'm her boyfriend! If she was going to leave, she would have told me first!"

"Raoul, no offense, but she definitely would have told me before she told you," countered Meg. "I'm practically her sister, and you know what they say: blood is thicker than water." Nadir smiled slightly, feeling sorry for the little blond girl. She had been putting up with Raoul for a nearly a week now, and with each passing day, he became more frantic.

"I'm inclined to agree with Miss Giry," he said. "Especially considering that Christine told me that she ended her relationship with you before she left."

Raoul's face became flushed. "It wasn't like that. She just said she needed some time alone. We were going to pick things pack up when she wasn't so stressed about school."

"Will you just shut _up?" _demanded Meg, her patience finally gone. "That's considered a breakup. You were jealous of…" she broke off abruptly, realizing that she had said too much.

"No, she can't… she wouldn't be…" The boy's eyes widened with horror. Hastily trying to keep the situation in hand, Nadir said, "I'm sure Miss Giry isn't trying to insinuate that Christine is…"

"She has disappeared before," Raoul replied weakly. "What if he…"

"Oh, _please, _Raoul, just think for a moment!" Meg snapped. "He wouldn't do anything like that. He was her teacher, not her secret lover. Christine wouldn't cheat on you. You're the only one who thought there was more to their relationship."

"I'm sorry," Nadir interrupted, "but who was her teacher?"

Meg's face furrowed as she thought. "Christine never gave me his full name. She only called him Erik."

"And, what did you see in his relationship with Christine?" Meg glanced at Raoul uneasily. "I think he liked her," she answered unwillingly. "A lot. He… told her not to date anyone. His reason was that he wanted her to be able to focus on her music without distractions, but… well, the lessons were free."

"They were?" Raoul asked, outraged. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"Because it wasn't your business!"

Nadir decided it would be prudent for him to leave. "It seems like you two have much to discuss. If you need me, you have my number." His eyes met Raoul's, and he suddenly felt sympathy for him. He didn't know that he would probably never see Christine again. "I'm sorry to be the one who told you all of this. Hopefully, she'll contact both of you soon." He would see it done; both Raoul and Meg needed closure.

"Thank you, Mr. Khan," Meg said softly.

"You'll be hearing from one of us soon," was Raoul's response. Nadir winced. The boy just wasn't going to give up. Erik wasn't going to be happy about this.

o0o

When Christine woke the next morning, Erik was already gone. The spot next to her on the bed was still warm, though. She wondered how long he had been awake, how long he had stayed beside her sleeping form… She shuddered at the thought. Suddenly, she couldn't stand to stay in that bed for another moment. She quickly left its warmth and tried to forget that she would be expected to share it again with her husband that night.

_Her husband. _The idea was an absurdly strange one. She didn't know what she ought to expect from him or what would be expected of her. _What now? _The question plagued her as she dressed and made her way to the dining room. Erik was already there, reading the newspaper. The sight was so ironically normal that she froze for a moment and stared at him in surprise. Several moments passed before he noticed her presence. He swiftly put the paper down and smiled. "Good morning, my dear."

"Good morning," she replied uneasily. He gracefully gestured to her place at the table. As usual, breakfast was already prepared. "Sit," he bid her smoothly. She obeyed without a word. If he wanted to act as though nothing had changed, then who was she to disagree?

They ate in silence. Once she was finished, Erik rose to take her plate, but she shook her head. "No, Erik; I can take my own plate." He looked offended, so she gave him a small smile. "I'm a waitress, remember? I wouldn't want my skills to become rusty."

Taken aback by her light teasing, he allowed her to take the dishes to the kitchen. When she started to wash them, however, he took the soap from her. "That won't be necessary, dear. Mary will take care of it."

"I don't mind," she protested, but he only laughed and turned off the water in the sink. "I don't mind, either, but she would," he explained. "She takes great pride in her job. Surely you would not want to rob her of that?"

As if summoned, the middle-aged maid entered the kitchen. She frowned when she saw Christine by the sink with the dishes. "Mr. Campion, have you not told her that while you're the master of the house, I'm the master of the kitchen?" she asked in an exasperated voice. Christine looked at Erik, who only shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mary," he apologized, sounding both sheepish and amused. "I only just told her. She wouldn't listen." His eyes gleamed with amusement when Christine scowled at him. _"Thanks," _she mouthed behind the maid's back.

Mary turned to Christine, her expression softening. "Perhaps would like to help me here in the kitchen sometime?" she offered timidly. "We women need to stick together." Erik's eyes widened in surprise, and Christine laughed appreciatively. "I would like that," she answered sincerely. "Let me know when it would be most convenient for you."

"Now is not that time, however," Erik interrupted. "I believe it's time for your lesson, Christine." He took her hand and began to lead her out of the kitchen. "Thank you for breakfast, Mary!" Christine called over her shoulder. "And, I'll be happy to work with you soon!" The maid grinned as they walked through the door. _I can't believe it, _she thought to herself, _but it seems… it almost seems as though there's hope for Mr. Campion. _

o0o

They didn't pay attention to time as they sang together. They only focused on the music they were making. Finally, Christine raised her hands in protest. "I need a break, Erik," she told him apologetically.

"Of course," he replied instantly, closing the piano. She turned towards the window. It was a beautiful day, and she was filled with longing. Erik couldn't help but feel envious. _This is perfect. I'm jealous of the sun now. _"Would you like to go outside for a little while?"

"If you wouldn't mind," she answered in a nonchalant voice. Her eyes were shining, though, as she tried to repress her eagerness.

"My only condition is that you wear something warm." She smiled hugely as she ran out of the music room. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. While he was doing everything in his power to keep things as normal as possible, he knew that this was only the calm before the storm. Something was going to have to be done about Buquet. They would never be able to move forward until all of this was behind them. And, the fact that he was madly in love with Christine didn't simplify matters. In all of his numerous dealings with Buquet, the man had always been searching for a weakness, some kind of flaw in his armor. Erik never had a weakness, though; he had nothing worth losing.

Now, all of that had changed, and Buquet knew it.

Less than a year ago, Erik wouldn't have hesitated to simply kill his opponent. Yet, he found that he was growing tired of violence and subterfuge. Christine had become his conscious, and he couldn't shed blood and look into her eyes at the same time. He was ready to call it quits.

_I'm growing old, _he thought cynically. _I shouldn't love her; she's half my age! I've pushed her too fast. Every day, she pulls away from me, and I'm putting her in danger by loving her. Buqet is proof. I need to let her go. Yes, that's what I'll do; as soon as this ordeal is over, I'll let her go. Then, she will be safe from me. _Defeated, he moaned.

"Erik? Are you alright?" a soft voice asked. He raised his head to see Christine watching him, concern written in her features. Her concern only rubbed salt into the wound. _She's only concerned because she's a good girl and she's terrified of being left here alone. _He forced himself to smile. "I'm fine; it's only a headache," he lied smoothly. Her look of relief made him feel guilty, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her his decision. Not yet. He walked over to her, and to her complete surprise, he cupped her face in his hands. "I love you," he breathed. "So much." _So much that I will live without you to make you happy._ Then, he kissed her forehead. A tremor passed through her body when his lips touched her. Confused, she murmured, "I know. Erik… Are you sure you're okay?"

"I've changed my mind," he said, dodging her question. "Why don't we go to the park?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "The _park? _Isn't that… isn't that rather… _public?"_

"If you wouldn't mind." _Of course she wouldn't want to be seen with me. How foolish can I be? _Her gentle smile, however, confused him. "My only condition is that you wear something warm," she told him. Laughing, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Your wish is my command." With that, he went to obey his wife, choosing to enjoy the calm as much as possible before the inevitable storm hit.

o0o

About an hour later, they were sitting on a bench in the park. The sun was very low in the sky, and the park was completely theirs. Christine shook her head. "It's sad, isn't it?"

"What is sad?" Erik inquired distractedly.

"People are always rushing. Rushing to go to work, rushing to a class, rushing home… they never stop and think about how lucky they are." She looked at him ruefully for a moment. "I used to be just like them," she added in a low voice. "All I could think about was how to get through the day. I was always going, rushing, but I wasn't living." She laughed a little bitterly. "I took everything for granted."

"What about now?" Erik asked. "Are you alive?" She pondered for a moment. "That's what so strange," she answered slowly. "I _shouldn't _feel alive and thankful, but… I do."

Before Erik had a chance to ask about the meaning of her words, they heard a male voice cry, "Christine!" They both turned… and Christine's heart skipped a beat out of pure terror.

Raoul de Chagny was walking towards them, a look of disbelief and fury on his face.

Christine reacted first. Grabbing Erik's hand, she stood and started to run. The sound of footsteps was heard, and she didn't have to look back to know that Raoul was chasing them.

"Erik! Let her go! I swear, if you don't let me see her…"

They never heard the rest of Raoul's threat, for Christine pulled Erik into a crowded shop. Quickly, they found the exit and made it to the car. Once the doors were locked and they were moving, Christine leaned back against her seat, gasping for air.

"Are you alright?" Erik asked quietly. She looked at him. His eyes were burning, but his voice was calm… too calm.

"I'm fine. You?"

"I'm less than fine, but I'll be better once we're home." He gripped the steering wheel. She could see that every muscle in his body was tense. "Erik, are you upset that I ran?"

A moment of silence passed, and then, he shook his head. "No, Christine; I'm not upset that you ran. I'm only trying to understand…" he stopped, uncertain.

"Tell me," she said softly. Turning to meet her eyes for a moment, he said, "I'm trying to understand why you ran _away _from him instead of _towards _him."

She watched his face carefully before speaking. "You're my husband now, Erik," she reminded him, wondering at the way she had accepted it. "He's not a part of my life anymore. Raoul has no claim to me now."

He refused to meet her gaze this time. "Do you hate me, Christine?" he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper. "Do you hate me for taking everything away from you?"

"No, Erik," she sighed. "I'm tired of trying to hate you." She leaned against the window wearily. "Let's go home."

She didn't have to ask twice. The rest of the ride was passed in silence. By the time they were home, Christine still hadn't untangled the complicated knot that was her life.

**Posted on January 25, 2010**


	27. Unease

**I'm writing the next chapter, and it SHOULD be up soon if my computer co-operates. R&R.**

**Chapter Twenty-four: Unease**

Meg was _not _happy when her phone rang past midnight. When she saw who was calling, she was sorely tempted to not answer it. She was thoroughly sick of dealing with Raoul, and she deeply regretted pushing Christine towards him. Finally, she answered the phone. _"What, _Raoul?" she snapped. "You better have a really good reason for calling me this late."

"I saw Christine."

Those three words were enough to make her sit upright in about a quarter of a second. "When?" she asked, her brain buzzing with questions. "Where?"

"I saw her around five at the park." Meg heard him take a shaky breath. _"He _was with her."

"He?"

"Erik." Meg didn't say anything, so he quickly continued. "I tried to get her back, Meg, but she… she ran from me."

Meg's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? That's… crazy." Could it be that Christine really _was _choosing to stay away? Was it possible that Mr. Khan was telling the truth?

As if he could hear her thoughts, Raoul said, "She was afraid he would hurt me. That's the only logical explanation."

She frowned. "If she was afraid for you, she would have told you to stay away from her before running," she reasoned. "Besides, Christine is a fighter; she wouldn't just run away."

Raoul didn't agree. "Are you saying that she's _choosing _to be with that maniac? He must have her hypnotized, or… she might have Stockholm Syndrome."

"But, Meg was tired of the conversation. "It's not going to help if we stay up all night discussing this. I'm tired, and I have to go to class in the morning. "For now, all we can do is be thankful that she's alive and well."

"He could hurt her, though! What if –" Meg ended the call without hearing the rest of what he was going to say. After turning off her phone, she decided that she would contact Nadir Khan, and hopefully, with Raoul out of the way, she would learn whether or not Christine had actually been kidnapped.

o0o

"Erik, what's wrong?" Christine asked softly. She found him the following morning at the dining room table, and his appearance shocked her. He looked so… so exhausted. She couldn't remember him tossing and turning in his sleep, but then, she was a deep sleeper. Nevertheless, he looked as though he hadn't slept at all the previous night.

"Buquet still hasn't been located," he answered wearily. "He somehow evaded all of the men I sent out, and he hasn't been seen for three days." Christine shuddered, and Erik reached across the table and took her hand. "He can't hide forever," he said quietly. "When I find him, he will pay for everything he had done to you. You're safe."

"I know." Her small smile tore at his heart. She was so sweet, so trusting, that he couldn't keep it in any longer. "Christine, I have decided that once this is all over, you will be free to leave."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What? I… I don't understand."

He couldn't meet her eyes. "I was wrong to put you in a cage, my dear," he confessed sadly. "You should not be here with me; you deserve so much more than I can give you. I will not ask for your forgiveness. We can have our marriage annulled as soon as Buquet is gone forever. All I ask… all I ask is that you always wear my ring. If you wear it, I will always be your friend."

_What is he saying? Why let me go now? Does he not love me anymore? _No, he still loved her; she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Then, it hit her. _He's allowing me to choose for myself. _A lump entered her throat, and she nodded. "I'll never take it off my finger," she promised. Gently, she kissed the palm of the hand that still held hers. "Thank you," she whispered. His eyes glistened with tears as he merely nodded and said, "What choice do I have? It seems I cannot deny you anything."

Never had Christine hated herself more. She would have expected such a choice to be easy, but strangely… she felt that the ropes binding her to Erik had been replaced with steel bonds when he cut the ropes. _What am I going to do?_

o0o

"Miss Giry!" Meg turned to see Professor Andre walking towards her. She smiled and politely inquired, "Yes sir?"

"I was just wondering if any new leads have been discovered concerning our dear Miss Daaë." His tone sounded sincere, but something in his eyes made Meg hesitate. She shook his head. "No, I'm afraid we aren't any closer to finding her than we were when she first disappeared."

"Ah, what a pity!" he replied sympathetically. "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

She nodded. "I will," she promised uneasily. "Have a nice day." Quickly, she turned and walked away. Professor Andre's smile vanished as soon as she wasn't looking. Walking back into his classroom and closing the door, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number. Finally, a voice asked, "Yes?"

"I just spoke to the Giry girl," Andre reported. "She doesn't know anything."

"Good," the man replied. "I want it to stay that way. Watch her closely."

Andre took out his handkerchief and wiped sweat from his brow. "Yes, Mr. Buquet. What about the de Changy boy?"

Buquet laughed darkly. "He might prove useful to us. Keep a close eye on him, too." Then, the line went dead.

**Posted on February 17, 2011**


	28. Truth

**Here is a long chapter since it has taken me so long to update. R & R!**

**Chapter Twenty-five: Truth **

Nadir smiled politely as Meg sat down across from him at their table in a small deli. She tried to return his smile, but she was obviously worried. "So, what is it you need to tell me?" he asked. He wanted to get straight to the point; no need to pretend this was a friendly meeting.

The little blond hesitated before speaking. She didn't like confiding in people she didn't know, but this was an emergency. Christine could be in trouble. "I… Raoul called me a few nights ago. He told me… he saw Christine."

The Persian was immediately alert. "He saw her?"

"Yes. He said he saw her in the park." She took a deep breath before adding, "She wasn't alone."

"She wasn't?" Nadir felt a sinking sensation as he realized his friend's mistake. _Curse you, Erik! _he inwardly raged. _You're supposed to be keeping her safe! How could you be so foolish as to take her out in public?_

"Erik was there." Meg fought to repress the sudden urge to cry. She missed her best-friend so much, and to know that Christine chose to run away without telling her anything hurt. "Raoul says she ran away when she saw him."

"_She _ran away?" Nadir pushed. "And, Erik ran with her?" Meg nodded and Nadir looked away, shocked. Hearing that Erik willingly ran instead of attacking his adversary was unfathomable. It wasn't like him at all. _Running certainly wouldn't have been Erik's idea. It must have truly been Christine's choice. _While Christine might never know it, she had most likely saved Raoul's life when she decided to run.

Meg watched him curiously. _He's hiding something from me. _The realization hit her in a completely unexpected burst of intuition. She could see that there was something about the situation he was keeping a secret. "There's something you aren't telling me," she said. "Is Christine alright?"

He turned to look back at her, surprised. "Everything I have told you today concerning Miss Daaë is the truth," he swore. She frowned, trying to judge if he was being sincere. Shaking her head, she concluded, "It's about Erik, then."

Nadir shook his head. "There are many things about Erik that you will never know, Miss Giry. I don't even know that much about him. He's a very… private man, and to try to learn his secrets isn't wise."

Her eyes widened. "Is he that dangerous?" she whispered. The defeated look on the Persian's face answered her question, and she shuddered. "Then, how can you tell me that Christine is safe?"

"Miss Giry, please understand: Erik is a dangerous person, but he won't hurt Christine. She is safe."

"How can you be sure?" Meg demanded. She looked right into his eyes, determined to know the truth. He sighed wearily. _Forgive me, Erik, but this girl needs to know the truth. _"I know Christine is safe with Erik because… he is in love with her."

Meg didn't comprehend his words at first. "He's… in _love _with her?" Nadir nodded, and her mouth fell open. "But, does she love _him?"_

Nadir winced, wishing more than anything he give a positive answer. But, he was through with lying on his friend's behalf. "I don't know."

The blond's eyes filled with tears. "I need to speak to her," she requested quietly. "Please? Can you arrange this?"

He nodded. "It will be done," he promised. "I think Christine needs you now more than ever."

o0o

Erik was reading in the lounge when the doorbell rang. Irritated, he rose and made his way to the door. He could hear laughter from the kitchen. Mary and Christine were baking together. The two women had spent an hour or so cooking for the past three afternoons. He smiled. Christine's laughter was such a rare sound, especially since he had told her… Refusing to make a fool of himself by entertaining such thoughts, he opened the door. When he saw Nadir standing outside, he groaned quietly. "Why are you here?"

"We need to talk, Erik." His voice was calm and patient, and Erik smirked bitterly. "You mean you need to talk to Christine?"

"No. I've brought… someone else who needs to talk with Miss Daaë."

Erik's eyes widened, and he clenched his hands into fists. "If you have brought that boy here, so help me…"

"Relax. I didn't bring the boy," Nadir interjected before his friend strangled him. His haggard appearance had reached his noticed, and it shook him.

"Who?" the masked man barked impatiently.

"Meg Giry."

Erik looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening with irritation. "Why did you bring her here? Do you realize what you have done?"

"I insisted on her wearing a blindfold on the ride up here. You're in no danger from her. She just wants to speak to Christine." Nadir's voice took on a pleading note. "Please, Erik; she needs some answers."

Erik's eyes flashed angrily. "I suppose I have no choice," he replied. "If I don't let her see Christine, she will become suspicious." He glared at his old friend before commanding, "Go and fetch her in a few minutes. Christine will be waiting for her in the lounge." Without waiting for an answer, Erik turned and went to the kitchen. The scent of fresh bread welcomed him, and the sight of Christine made his heart ache. She was wearing her hair in a loose ponytail and was wearing an emerald green blouse and jeans. She was wearing one of Mary's aprons, and her small hands were covered with flour. Somehow, a streak of flour had managed to get on her cheek, too. She looked a mess, and Erik had never seen her look more attractive.

"Mr. Campion! What are you doing in my kitchen?" Mary protested good-naturedly. Erik managed to smile as he answered, "I'm afraid I must steal my wife away from you now."

"_My wife." _Chills went down Christine's spine. "Are we singing?" she inquired as she took off her apron and handed it to Mary. Erik couldn't help but grin as he moved towards her. Gently, he wiped the flour off her cheek, making her blush and laugh. _This girl is so adorable that I swear she will be the death of me. _"No, dear, we're not singing right now. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" she asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Well, you have certainly managed to lure me out of the kitchen." She wiped her hands before turning to Mary. "We'll have to think of something challenging to make tomorrow. Save some of the bread for us!"

"Poo! It is you who will have to save some of it for me!" the maid teased. "Now, away with you! Out of my kitchen!" Laughing, they quickly obeyed. Erik commanded, "Follow me," and led Christine to the lounge. Her eyebrows rose when they arrived in the room, but she said nothing as Erik gestured for her to sit. For a few moments, they only sat on the couch together. Christine's worry grew with each moment that passed. Timidly, she took his hand. "Erik?"

"You have a visitor." Christine's eyes widened in shock, but he continued before she had a chance to speak. "You will have one hour. You are free to say whatever you please, only… don't run." His voice wavered, and she ran her thumb over his hand. "I'm not going to run," she promised. He nodded, and then, a feminine voice was heard. "Christine?"

Christine raised her head, and when she saw the owner of the voice, she screamed and jumped up off the couch. "Meg! Meg, I… I can't believe it!" Both girls started crying as they hugged each other. Erik's eyes met Nadir's, and the Persian signaled with his head for him to come outside. Before Erik left the room, he walked over to Christine. The girls became silent as he traced the contours of Christine's cheek. "I love you," he told her quietly, not caring that Meg could hear him. Then, he leaned over, kissed his wife's cheek, and left.

Nadir and Erik went to the garden by the fountain. Erik smiled cynically. This was the spot where he married Christine. Oh, what a complete fool he was to have fallen for that woman!

"I need to know what you intend to do with Christine after the Buquet situation is resolved," the Persian said. "She misses her friends, her life… surely you can see that? There must be a way to let her still be a part of the world. She's so very young, Erik."

"I know," Erik replied sadly. "I have already told her that once I have dealt with Buquet, she is free to leave."

"Just like that?" his friend inquired skeptically.

"Yes. I only want her to be happy. I love her, Nadir. Once she is gone, I will leave her alone."

Nadir eyed him carefully. "What does she think about your decision?"

"What do you mean?" Erik demanded harshly. "She's happy about it, of course."

"Did she make this choice or did you?" Silence was his only reply. "Erik, you greatly wronged her by kidnapping her - for I know it was an abduction - but it's equally wrong to make this decision without consulting her."

"I'm doing this _for _her!" Erik snapped. "Do you think I _want _to let her go? Never in my life have I wanted anything more! Not while I was in France or Persia… I want her to love me back, but I have realized that by kidnapping her, I ruined all chances of obtaining her love. Did you know, Nadir," here his voice faltered, "that Christine had already chosen me? She chose me over her young man… the day I took her." He put his head in his hands in agony. The Persian's heart was filled with sympathy as his proud friend stood mourning in front of him. "You should give her a chance," he insisted, but Erik only shook his head. "I cannot ask her to love me anymore. I… I can't be rejected by her again." He raised his head and met his friend's gaze with sorrowful eyes. "Just let me right this wrong. Don't ask anymore of me."

Nadir placed his hand on Erik's shoulder. "Alright," he reluctantly agreed. "But, I still think you're making a mistake."

Erik laughed, but the sound was hollow. "All my life, I have made mistakes. What is one more?"

o0o

"I can't believe you're here!" Christine said for the hundredth time as the girls sat together in the lounge. After crying, laughing, and crying some more, they had finally settled down enough to talk.

"I can't believe it, either! For the longest time, I didn't know what happened to you…" she broke off, seeing the pained look on her friend's face.

"How… is Raoul?" Christine asked carefully. _Please, Erik; don't be listening._

"He's worried sick but doing alright." She reached over and took Christine's hand. "Christine, I've heard who knows how many theories about what happened to you… but I need to know the truth. Why did you disappear?"

Christine hesitated. Erik's words ran through her head. _"You are free to say to say whatever you please." _Meg was like her sister and needed to know everything. "Promise you won't tell Raoul?" When Meg nodded, she sighed. "Alright, here's the truth." With that, she told her friend the story in its entirety: how she met Erik, the music lessons, his demands, Buquet's attempted rape, the scenarios at the hospital and funeral, her abduction, Buquet's determination to ruin both of them, Erik's love for her, their wedding, and finally, Erik's promise to free her. Meg listened through it all, never interrupting, and for that, Christine was grateful. After she finished telling her story, Meg asked, "Do you hate him?"

"Not anymore," the brunette replied. "I used to want to hate him so badly, Meg. Now… I don't know how I feel towards him."

"Do you love him?"

Christine froze. She had avoided that question for so long. "I… I don't know, Meg," she whispered. "I'm so afraid to love him, but even after I leave, I'll never be able to stop hearing his voice in my dreams."

"That sounds like love. Even when he first started giving you lessons, I thought he liked you."

"Apparently, I'm the only one who didn't notice. Raoul thought the same thing, only to different… extremes." She looked down, embarrassed. "The longer I stay here, the more confused I become," she added in a low voice.

"Will you not leave now?" Meg pleaded. "You don't have to stay, Christine."

Christine shook her head sadly. "I do, Meg. I'm in danger until Mr. Buquet is found and put in prison. This is the safest place for me to be right now. Erik will protect me."

All of a sudden, Erik was at the door. "Christine, it's time."

Tears filled Meg's eyes. "When will I see you again?"

"I don't know," her friend replied, looking at Erik pleadingly. "I can call her now, can't I?" He nodded. "She must not tell anyone she has seen you, though; Buquet could have men working from him anywhere."

"What about Raoul?" Meg asked tentatively.

"No, don't tell him. He'll come looking for me, and that won't end well," Christine answered adamantly. "I'll call you soon," she promised as she hugged her best-friend goodbye. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. And, think about what I said." Then, Nadir and Meg left. As Christine watched their car drive away, Erik went to stand behind her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned back against him. "Thank you," she said softly.

"You have missed her very much, haven't you?" Christine only nodded. "But, it will be better now that I can talk to her."

His fingers made their way to her neck and started stroking the soft skin above her collarbone. "I meant what I said, Christine; you will be allowed to leave here forever as soon as it's safe." She closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears. "I know, Erik. I trust you." Then, they fell silent, lost in their own thoughts but still needed to be near the other. Both of them knew that everything was about to change, and while neither of them would say it, both of them wished they could stay in that moment… that nothing would change.

o0o

That night, Christine sat in her bed, thinking about her conversation with Meg. Erik hadn't joined her yet; he was off in his music room. _"Do you love him?" _Meg's question echoed in her mind, almost taunting her. She took off her wedding band and stroked it, a habit she had developed, though she only did it when Erik wasn't around. It would hurt him to see her take it off, and she didn't want to hurt him anymore.

Her situation was so complicated. Basically, she had won. In a matter of weeks, at the most, she would be free. She would return to her job as a waitress, go back to college, spend time with Meg…

But, was that the life she truly wanted?

_No._

As she twirled the ring and looked at it, the bedside lamp shone on what appeared to be a scratch. She held it closer to her face in order to examine it… and her heart broke.

"_Fate links me to thee forever and a day!"_

At that moment, she broke down. Burying her face in her hands, she started crying as the bedroom door opened. Hastily, she put the ring back onto her finger.

"Christine?" She could hear Erik's worried voice. "What's the matter, angel?"

But, she couldn't answer him, for she finally knew the truth: _I love him. I love him, and now, I'm worse off than before because he's going to make me leave. _She lunged towards him and grabbed him, sobbing pitifully into his shoulder. "Hold me, Erik," she whimpered. She didn't give him a chance to reply, for she pulled him onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him. "Make me forget… I want to forget everything…" She closed her eyes, and he kissed her eyelids. "Don't cry," he whispered. "Everything will be back to the way it was before soon."

_Tell him, _her mind commanded. She winced and cowered away. _I can't. _Opening her eyes, she begged him, "Sing to me."

He obeyed her request, and as his captivating voice stole her mind away, she was able to abandon the truth for the world of dreams.

**Posted on March 6, 2011**


	29. Asked

**I know you guys have been waiting for this moment, so enjoy and review. **

**Chapter Twenty-six: Asked**

_"I love him!" _Christine repeated the thought in her mind over and over again. She wanted so badly to tell Erik, but fear kept her lips closed. Erik seemed so determined to send her away, and it made her question whether or not he still loved her.

She had to admit that their marriage forced her to start thinking of him as her husband. When he placed his ring on her finger, she was resigned to the fact that she would never marry another man. How could she have anticipated that he would let her go? She pictured her life with him, and even she couldn't deny that the image held appeal. An attraction was developed between them as he became more and more central in her life, and she couldn't imagine her life without him now.

She loved him. Heaven help her… He was impatient, stubborn, prideful, and dangerous, but she was in love with him.

"Christine?" She snapped back into reality as his voice interrupted her thoughts. Erik was watching her worriedly. Attempting to smile, she said, "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"You missed your cue, dear." Then, she saw he was sitting at the piano and looking at her expectantly. "Shall I start again?"

"Yes, please." However, as soon as he started singing, she regretted it. His voice started pulling her in when it uttered the first note of the song, and she couldn't take it. "Stop!"

The music came to an abrupt halt. Erik turned to her, confused, but before he could say anything, she took a step backwards. "I… I can't do it," she stuttered. "I need to stop…" Unable to explain herself further, she turned and ran out of the music room, leaving a very bewildered Erik behind.

_What did I do? _he wondered. Christine had been very… distant the past few days. Every time she looked at him, she looked like she was silently begging him for something. "I wish I could understand her," he found himself saying aloud.

"She's hurting." Startled, he turned and saw Mary standing in the doorway, shaking her head sadly. Bristling slightly, he replied, "If you know why she's acting so strangely, by all means, please tell me."

"She is very young, yes?" When he nodded, she continued. "She doesn't know what she wants. She thinks she wants to be independent, and she wants to make her own choices, but she is afraid. She is afraid of being alone."

"Mary, I'm going to let her go," he reminded her. "Surely that will make her happy."

"You think so, Mr. Campion?" she challenged. "Have you asked her?"

The words _I don't have to ask; I already know _were on the tip of his tongue, but something in the older woman's face made him pause. "No, I have not asked her," he said slowly.

Mary smiled softly. "Give her a choice. She might want to leave… but you never know unless you ask." Without saying another word, she turned and left.

_Give her a choice. _Erik's fists clenched. _I can't! She doesn't want me. I don't want to be reminded again._

_"You never know unless you ask."_

_No. _Desperately, Erik plunged into a song of his own composing, only he played it hard and fast. And, for a while, he was able to drown his misgivings out of his head.

o0o

"Nothing is adding up, Meg! I think that Khan man is lying to us."

_Why haven't I learned my lesson? _Meg looked around, and her cheeks burned when she saw several people looking in their direction. "Lower your voice!" she hissed.

"I don't see why you're so unconcerned! I thought Christine is your best friend."

"She _is _my best friend! You know, like in the real world, which is different from whatever reality you're in, claiming she's your girlfriend."

"I think she's in trouble. I mean, what if Erik –"

A crash was heard behind them. Turning, they saw Professor Andre had dropped his bag and papers and was hastily trying to gather them. Meg and Raoul instantly knelt to give him a hand as he stuttered, "I'm so sorry… I'm just a mess today…" Smiling, Meg handed him a stack of papers, and when she saw his face, her smile vanished. Andre's face was ghostly white, and he looked like a trapped rabbit. "Are you okay, professor?" she asked worriedly.

"Oh, I'm fine. No need to worry about me, Miss Giry." He quickly rose. "Thank you!" he called, scurrying away.

"That man isn't right," Raoul commented. And, for the first time since Christine disappeared, Meg agreed with him.

o0o

She was doing it again. Erik didn't move and kept his breathing even as Christine rose from their bed and tip-toed out of the bedroom. Every night since Meg had visited, she would wait until she thought he was asleep and leave. He never followed her, but it hurt knowing that she didn't want him to hold her. She was so close to being free, and she refused to give him the least bit of affection. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but he knew his attempts were futile. He couldn't sleep without Christine, for his arms ached for her and his ears longed to hear the sound of her breathe. He rose and started looking for her. "Christine?" he called. He heard the sound of thunder, and when he looked out the window, he saw it was raining. Frowning, he noticed the door leading to the backyard wasn't completely closed. _No! She promised not to run! _Anger boiled within him. He had given her _everything, _and she wasn't going to treat him like this now! With red clouding his vision, he ran outside and ran. The rain was coming down hard, and he was drenched before he reached the trees. As he made his way through the forest, he saw a white figure in the gazebo. _Christine._ He hurried over to it and was ready to grab her and take her back inside… but then, over the rain, he heard the sound of her crying. Instantly, his anger ebbed, leaving concern in its place. "Christine?"

She jumped, obviously startled. "Go away," she told him in a shaky voice. But, his worry only grew. _She hasn't cried this much since her father died. _He stepped into the gazebo and sat beside her. "Why are you crying?" he asked, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice.

She shook her head fiercely, and he took her hands. "You can tell me," he said gently. When she shook her head again, he sighed. They just sat there for a while, Christine watching the rain and Erik watching her. She was shivering, and he lifted her hands and kissed them. "Please tell me," he begged softly. She turned and met his eyes with her own, and her will broke. "Why are you giving up so easily?" she demanded.

"I… what do you mean?" he asked, confused. He had been ready for any answer… except for the one she gave him. "I don't understand."

"You told me that you wouldn't let me go, that you _couldn't _let me go," she shot back, pulling her hands away. "You kidnapped me, you forced me to marry you, and now, you're going to make me leave!"

"You think this is _easy?" _he asked, his own temper flaring. "Christine, I have _never _done anything harder in my life! I _love _you and I want you to stay with me! I'm letting you go to make you happy." He was on the verge of shaking her when she whispered, "You… you _want _me to stay?"

"Of course," he whispered back. _What in the world is going on? _

"But… but you said…" her face crumpled as she started crying again. Cautiously, he took her in his arms. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly as if she would never let him go.

_Can it be? _he wondered in amazement. _No… she's only going through an emotional breakdown. She'll surely be ashamed of herself in the morning. She doesn't want to stay._

_"Give her a chance… you never know unless you ask." _Mary's voice drifted in like the wind. It was like a whisper in his ear, there one moment and gone the next. His sore heart couldn't take any more rejection, but when he looked at the girl in his arms, he took a deep breath and took a chance. "Christine… stay," he quietly begged her.

She pulled back and looked at him, her eyes wide. "What?"

"Stay with me," he repeated without faltering. "I know I took away your right to choose for yourself, and I'm sorry. But, I was so afraid…" he traced her cheekbone tenderly with his fingers. "I was afraid you wouldn't choose me for myself. No one in their right mind _would _choose me. I will still allow you to leave if you like, but… I'm asking you – _begging _you – to stay." There. It was done. He took a shaky breath and waited for her reply.

"Erik…" she breathed sadly. "I _want _to stay, but you're so secretive. There are so many things I don't know about you: your age, your – _our – _last name…" her eyes met his. "Erik, I've never even seen your face."

He stiffened. "Christine, I will tell you anything you want to know, but you cannot ever see my face."

"Why not?" she countered. "You wear it even in the comfort of your own home. It's obviously not sufficient for hiding your identity, so what is its purpose?" He didn't reply, and she moved closer. "I need you to trust me, Erik. If I'm going to stay, I need to see your face."

Her hand moved to touch his cheek. "Christine, please…" he whispered. His heart was pounding as her hand moved to the edge of his mask, and as she took it off, he closed his eyes and braced himself for her scream.

It never came. The only sound was the sound of rain hitting the roof of the gazebo. When he felt Christine's hand return to his face, he opened his eyes. Her face was very pale, making her lips look like they were the color of blood, but she didn't scream, didn't faint or run away. She only looked into his eyes as for the first time, she truly saw him.

His face was hideous; there was no way to deny it. The right side of his face was completely mutilated. Scars covered it, and his cheekbone looked like it was going to rip through the skin. He was ghastly and resembled a skeleton... but it was the face of the man she loved.

"Oh, Erik," she breathed. "My poor Erik..." She took his face in her hands and leaned in. Right before her lips touched his, she said, "I love you." Then, she kissed him. He was too much in shock to respond at first, but then, one of his hands placed itself on her neck while the other one became entangled in her hair. _She loves me! _his heart rejoiced. For the first time in his life, he was loved!

When the kiss ended, he asked, "I suppose this means you will stay?"

She laughed, her eyes glistening with tears. His breath caught in his throat. Never had she looked more perfect. "I think it's safe for you to assume that. I guess this means I'm not in my right mind," she teased. Then, seriously, she added, "Yes, Erik; I will stay. I've been hoping you would ask me. I've loved you for a long time now, though I was too stubborn to admit it, and when you decided to send me away, it hurt me."

"You do realize that I'll never let you leave me now?" he asked. He didn't want to doubt her, but he needed to know that she was confident in her decision. "This is the point of no return, Christine."

She kissed him lightly again. "I like the sound of that," she murmured. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

He smiled tenderly and placed his hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace. "You will never be alone again, my angel," he promised. Then, he stood and extended his hand to her. "Come. We should go back inside before you catch your death of cold."

She accepted his hand and rolled her eyes. "I'm hardly that fragile," she reminded him. He grinned. No, his Christine was strong and brave. She was capable of looking into his face - a face that had brought him adversity his entire life - without shrinking away. She loved him for himself. Yes, he had wronged her by kidnapping her, but he would spend the rest of his life making up for it. "I know, dear," he assured her. "And, I love you for it." Then, hand in hand, they left the shadows of the forest together.

**Posted on March 21, 2011**


	30. Interlude: Cursed and Blessed

**Interlude: Cursed and Blessed**

I hardly slept that night. All I could do was stare at the beautiful woman next to me as if I was a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Cliché, I know, but try to see things from my perspective. Impossible, you say? True, but humor me, please.

You see, most people – _normal _people – hear "I love you" every day as children. Their parents coddle and worship them from the moment of their birth. As years pass, those adorable children grow into adults. They fall in love, marry, bear more adorable children, and the cycle repeats itself over and over again.

My entire life, I have envied them. The frailest man, the most _typically _ugly (not _my _kind of ugly!)… I would _gratefully _have accepted any of their positions in place of my own. My parents… Well, my father died before my birth. My young, beautiful mother must have considered me her one blessing during a time of sorrow. But, when I was born, she realized I wasn't a blessing; I was a curse.

My stay in Persia only confirmed my beliefs. The khanum was delighted with my skills, and at first, I adored her. No one had ever appreciated me before, and I must say it was heavenly. But, as time passed, she wanted me to not only perform magic tricks and make her charming little trinkets; no, she wanted me to execute a criminal. Desperate to please my mistress, I performed my duty and hoped she would be satisfied. Ah, but no… that only increased her thirst for blood. She demanded more and more elaborate executions, and eventually, I wasn't only an executioner. She turned me into an assassin as well. Anyone who crossed her met death at my hands. While I have never been like any other man, I wasn't a killer until I was forced. The khanum was like poison, sneaking her bloodlust into my veins. Her insanity leaked into me until I was truly a monster.

Even after I left Persia, I was involved in crime. I was one of the leaders of a prominent business. I suppose in common terms, we could be labeled as a mob. Still, even then I didn't belong. The other men were doctors, lawyers, politicians, and professors; they each easily blended into society. I, however, didn't follow their example. I was reclusive, only venturing into the world when it couldn't be avoided. I was proud and cynical. I had everything I needed in life: wealth, intelligence, and power. Love was for the weak, and I wasn't weak.

Then… I found Christine.

I still believe to this day that finding her led to my redemption. I was not only condemned for my face; my actions were even more horrible than my reflection in the mirror. But, she… she somehow took my dead heart in her small, innocent hands and claimed it for her own. Her voice called me from the brink of insanity, and her eyes were beacons lighting up a moonless sky. And, she showed me how weak I truly was, how close I was to being consumed by my own darkness. Though I had formerly considered love a weakness, I learned that love was making me stronger, and I marveled over this newfound discovery.

In desperation, I stole her. I was so afraid of losing her… For the first time in my life, I had something worth losing, and I would have killed in order to keep her. I soon realized how wrong I was to take away her freedom, and then, I promised to let her go as soon as she was safe.

Yet, despite everything I was – everything I did to her – she loved me. She agreed to stay… my own beautiful, living bride! She saw my face and still kissed me, still allowed me to hold her as she slept.

As I look at my life in retrospect, I realize that if given the chance, I would not have been born with a normal face. I would not even undo my torment in Persia. All of the curses I'd received throughout my life were worth it. Every pained step of my life led me to Christine, and I would rather have her and be hated by the world than have the whole universe as my kingdom. A throne is meaningless without a queen to sit beside you.

Gently, I leaned over her sleeping form and kissed her forehead. With a small sigh, she stirred and opened her eyes sleepily. "Why aren't you sleeping?" she whispered, her words slightly slurred. "It's late."

"I haven't been able to take my eyes off you. You are truly glorious, Christine." She smiled back snuggled closer to me. I took her in my arms and ran my fingers through her hair lovingly. "Go back to sleep, love," I murmured.

"Only if you sleep, too," she demanded. I couldn't hold back my smile. She is so adorable. "I promise to go to sleep now," I assured her. "Goodnight, Christine."

"Goodnight, Erik." In moments, she was asleep again. I watched her for a few more moments before closing my eyes, a contented smile on my face. A beautiful woman – _my_ _wife _– was in my arms, she loved me, and she was going to stay with me.

I am the most blessed man who has ever lived.

**Posted on April 17, 2011**


	31. Close

**My computer is *finally!* in working order again (obviously), but I still won't be able to update my stories more than once every two weeks. I _know _this is going to sound like a terribly lame excuse, but work takes up a great deal of my time and energy. I hate it as much as you do, so I'll do my best to try to squeeze in writing time. **

**So, now that we've established that work and malfunctioning computers are irritating... please click on the little box and leave a review. :)**

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Close **

"Are you sure?" Buquet demanded, leaning over his desk.

Andre nodded. "I overheard the Giry girl and Chagny in the hallway yesterday. It's the only feasible explanation for her sudden disappearance."

Buquet cursed, his face growing red with anger. "I should have known. Erik never would have simply let her run or vanish as long as he didn't know my whereabouts. He's far too possessive."

"How are you going to find him?" Andre inquired.

"Finding their hiding place won't do any good, fool!" Buquet snapped. "No, we must devise a plan to draw Christine away from him."

Andre shook his head. "Good luck," he muttered sarcastically.

Buquet's eyes narrowed. "I would shut up if I were you," he suggested menacingly. To illustrate his point, he took a pistol out of the desk drawer and held it up for Andre to see. "Am I understood?"

Gulping, Andre stammered," Y… yes sir."

"We need to get Chagny on our side," Buquet continued comfortably. Andre, however, couldn't take his eyes off of it. "If he believes his precious girlfriend is in danger, he'll tell Meg. She might not believe him, but at his insistence, she'll arrange for them to meet with Christine… and then, we'll have our chance."

"But, what if it doesn't work."

"It _will _work," the crime lord said, raising his gun for emphasis, "or you'll be punished. I'd hate to think what would happen to your wife and children if you were to suddenly… disappear."

Poor Andre went cold. He was terrified of this man, of the power he held over him. _What choice do I have? _"It will be done," he promised.

Buquet sneered. "It's only a matter of time now."

o0o

Christine moaned and pulled the covers over her head. "No."

"Yes, Christine. I insist,"

She lifted the covers, stuck out her tongue, and then, she darted back under the safety of the blankets. "I don't care."

"Honestly, love; you really need to get out of bed. It's nearly noon."

"Make me!" she challenged, stifling a giggle.

"Very well." Suddenly, the covers were ripped away, leaving her exposed to her determined husband. Before she could react, he grabbed her feet and started tickling them. Screaming, she tried to kick him, but he only laughed and dodged her futile efforts.

"Erik! Stop!" she begged between giggles. "I'll get up!"

"You promise?" he prodded as he continued to tickle her mercilessly.

"Yes! Just stop!" He released her, and she collapsed, trying to catch her breath. Erik sat next to her, grinning devilishly. "Now I know how to make you get up," he observed mischievously.

She pouted. "You're mean," she accused teasingly.

"I never said I wasn't, dear." Then, he leaned over and kissed her. Her eyes closed as she once again marveled at the feeling of their joined lips. The feeling was still just as magical as the first time, and she never wanted the moment to end.

When they parted, he stood and offered her his hand. "I think brunch shall be the next item on our agenda, don't you agree?"

Taking his hand, she jumped up cheerfully. "I think that is a very good idea." Still holding hands, they walked to the kitchen. They quickly fetched some fruit, juice, and toast and went to eat outside by the fountain.

"You know, at nineteen years old, you should be above such childish measures," Erik remarked casually.

She arched an eyebrow, smirking. "You, being forty-two, should be above responding – not to mention provoking – my 'childish games.' Besides," she added slyly, "I think you rather enjoy my playful antics."

He kissed the tip of her nose, causing her to laugh. "How right you are." Then, he snagged one of her pieces of pineapple, and they both broke out into laughter.

Christine watched her husband with something akin to amazement. Erik was a completely different person from the reclusive man she had met nearly six months ago. When they had first met, he was solemn and tormented by his personal demons. He rarely smiled or laughed, and he trusted no one. Even when he became her teacher, he foreclosed personal information. And, though they lived together after her father's death, they were still worlds apart, separated by barriers they both believed were too vast to ever be breached.

But, when she removed his mask, she removed the final barriers between them. A week had passed since her confession… a glorious week, the happiest of her life: the beginning of forever. She was extremely proud of how far her husband had come in that short amount of time. He told her more about his past, though he admitted he wasn't ready to tell her everything yet. Every day, he revealed more about himself, slowly piecing together the complex puzzle that he presented.

"What?" he now asked, noticing the way she watched him.

She shook her head and smiled. "I was thinking of how much you have changed since I've known you."

His eyes softened tenderly. "You are the one who changed me, Christine. There was no good in me until we stumbled across each other. I was on the edge of drowning in my own wretchedness when your voice called me back."

Shuddering, she moved closer to him. "You never have to be that again, Erik. I love you." She didn't miss the way he swallowed when she said it. The way he was willing to do anything, become anything, for her proved that he was wrong about himself. To think that this man – this passionate genius – loved _her,_ of all of the women in the world, humbled her.

After years of thinking he was nothing, her husband was finally on his way to having a happily ever after.

o0o

Raoul paced the empty classroom irritably. _If someone is going to leave an anonymous note on my locker, he could at least have the decency to be here at the specified time! _He took the creased piece of paper from his pocket to make sure he'd read it correctly. Yes, the time said 7:00 pm., and his mysterious acquaintance was now ten minutes late… Ah, here he was now… He stepped forward to see the face of the man who wanted to meet with him, but just as quickly, he staggered back in shock.

_Professor Andre? _he wondered in bewilderment. Surely the eccentric professor didn't know anything about Christine! This must be some kind of joke!

And, yet… Andre was looking over his shoulder nervously as he entered the classroom… and then, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. Then, he turned and faced Raoul. "Mr. Chagny?" he stuttered, his voice an odd, high pitch.

"Is everything alright?" Raoul asked worriedly.

The professor shook his head. "It's… it's about Miss Daaė."

Raoul's heart sank. "Christine? What do you know about Christine?" he demanded.

"Shhhhhhhhh!" The professor peeked out of the window like a boy hiding from an angry mother. "Please keep your voice down!"

With a tremendous effort, Raoul quietly repeated, "What do you know about Christine?" Andre's eyes widened at the boy's intensity, for he looked as though he was about to hurt something… or _someone!_

"She's…" the professor stammered, unable to gain control of his nervous tongue. Raoul started to brush past him angrily, but Andre managed to grab his sleeve. "She's with _him!"_

"I already know that, professor," Raoul informed him through clenched teeth. So, unless you have something new to tell me…"

"He's a murderer!" the professor gasped. Upon seeing the color drain from Raoul's face, he tried to scramble away. Yet, this time, it was the boy who grabbed onto his sleeve and prolonged their meeting. "How do you know this?"

Here was the tricky part: earning the boy's trust. Buquet's plan didn't make any sense to Andre, but he was under strict orders… orders that would lead to his untimely death if disobeyed. And, he knew that Buquet wouldn't stop with him; he'd go after his family as well. If the boy didn't follow him, all was lost.

So, he looked the boy straight in the eyes and asked, "Do you really want to gamble her life on the chance that I'm wrong?" Without another word, he stepped out of the room, leaving Raoul to be tormented by his words. He didn't follow Andre, but the professor wasn't worried.

He knew he'd be hearing from Raoul de Chagny very soon.

**Posted on September 17, 2011**


	32. Lamb and Wolf

**Don't Punjab me! The next chapter is almost finished! I have a computer that WORKS now, so perhaps the electronic community has seen fit to finally grant me permission to post stories? *Cowers in corner as angry readers approach* Geez, I _know _it's short, but I didn't want to commit over-kill on this...**

**Where's an underground hide-out when you need one?**

**Oh, yeah; Erik owns the only cool one. :(**

**Interlude: Lamb and Wolf**

I smiled. Christine had fallen asleep curled up on the couch again. Her unruly curls were partially covering her lovely face, and her head rested upon her hands. The sight of her in a position of such vulnerability never failed to remind me of how much she needed me. She was only nineteen - still a child according to many - but she was more mature than most of the people I knew. The world robbed her childhood and replaced it with sorrow.

Yet, as she slept, her breathing was peaceful and even, and a small smile was on her face. She was the very image of an angel. Her innocence astounded me, for it shouldn't have survived. But, despite everything she had seen, she wasn't bitter and angry. Her hardships only increased her kind and compassionate spirit. She was an angel, but she chose to defy every law of society and love a monster.

My musings were interrupted by my phone vibrating, the one that was strictly for business. I pulled it out of my pocket and frowned. I would have pushed the "ignore" button, but the name on the screen stopped me: _Joseph Buquet._

A sense of foreboding went down my spine. His phone call couldn't possibly be good for me or Christine. I quickly went out of earshot and answered the call. "Ah, Buquet," I said smoothly. "I was beginning to wonder if you had fallen off the face of the earth." If only I was so fortunate. "As nice as it is hearing from you (major sarcasm), I'm afraid I cannot participate in whatever little job you have planned. I'm retiring from line of work."

"And, why would that be, Erik?" he asked, sounding amused. I gritted my teeth. If we were standing face-to-face, he would _never_ dare to have the audacity to find anything I said amusing. "Is it because of a certain young woman whom you have taken?"

"Leave her out of this, you lecherous snake!" I snapped.

"Oh my, Erik! I've never witnessed this side of you before, and I must say, it's an interesting experience. Is that… _emotion_ I detect in your voice?"

"What do you want, Buquet?" I demanded, forcing my voice to sound calm.

"I understand you've been looking for me. I propose we arrange a meeting."

I laughed coldly. "Why would you want to meet with me? You'll only leave in a bag."

"Don't make this so personal, my old friend." I could hear his sneer as he said the last word. "You want me to go away and let you and your little pet live happily ever after. If you want me to disappear, I'll oblige, but I'll expect some compensation."

"How much?" I questioned.

"Two million in cash. You have two days. Meet me in the university auditorium at midnight. Come alone. You give me the money, and I'll disappear."

"Done. Just know that if you don't hold your word, I swear I'll hunt you down and make you regret every vile thing you've ever done." Before he had a chance to reply, I hung up and turned off the phone.

I didn't have a choice but to follow his instructions. It seemed far-fetched to me that he would just give up, but then, Christine had never meant anything to him other than a beautiful young woman to seduce. To me, however, she was everything. I could easily gather the required funds, and I would meet the man.

Wearily, I returned to the lounge and was comforted by the sight of Christine, safe and sound as she slept. She was like a lamb, and it was my duty to protect her from the wolf at our door. If I didn't comply with Buquet's wishes, he would never stop hunting us, and I couldn't risk placing Christine in danger.

It was time to end this once and for all.

**Posted on January 6, 2012**


	33. Parted

**To all of my faithful readers: Yes, this is short, but bear with me.**

**To emeraldphan: This chapter is dedicated to you for all of your kind words and never-ending encouragement. Plus, you love this story almost - if not as much - as I do. Thank you for everything. You are awesome! :) **

**To M4573R CH33F: Yes, I'm talking to you. All you are is an internet troll who has nothing better to do than be a hater. Yes, I'm an American, I'm a ginger, and Jesus is my everything. If you have a problem with that, then don't read my stories. Grow up and don't leave uncalled-for reviews on people's pages, especially when you're too cowardly to have an account because you _KNOW _what you're doing isn't right and you don't want people contacting you. If you think _The Ugly Truth _is a terrible story, fine, but find another way to say it.**

**P.S. Your grammar is atrocious.**

**Chapter twenty-eight: Parted**

"I wish you didn't have to go," Christine murmured.

Erik pulled her closer. "I'll only be gone for two days, angel. It's just some unfinished business."

Christine bit her lip. She didn't know why she was so anxious. She supposed it was because she and Erik hadn't been separated ever since he hid her from the world. The thought of being without him, even for only a couple of days, was agonizing.

He ran his fingers through her curls. "You look so worried, darling. Talk to me."

She took his other hand in hers and stroked his fingers with her own. "The thought of us not being together frightens me," she confessed. "Nothing good happens when we are parted. I don't feel safe without you here." Her eyes pleaded with his. "Don't go," she pleaded. "Stay with me."

He sighed. Christine was right to worry, though she didn't know it. For a moment, he almost gave in to her, but then, he shook his head. " I can't, Christine," he told her. "This must be done."

She traced the contours of his face sadly. "So many secrets," she whispered. "When will you learn to trust me? How long will our secrets keep us apart?"

Erik tenderly kissed her. "After this, no more secrets," he promised. "I'll return soon, Christine. No matter where we are, I'll always come for you."

All Christine could do was allow herself to be wrapped in his embrace. He could feel her trembling, so he held her close. She knew something was wrong; his words were spoken far too intensely to believe otherwise. She wished he would confide in her, but for some reason, he believed he had to face this _unfinished business _alone. Even though she held him every night and constantly reminded him of her love, he still insisted on being alone. Once he returned, she wouldn't allow him to be alone ever again. He might be too stubborn and prideful to admit it, but he needed her.

As she drifted off to sleep, she could only hoped that Erik's secrets wouldn't come back to haunt them.

o0o

Meg looked at her phone and groaned in frustration. Raoul was calling again. She'd considered telling him the truth, but she feared his wounded vanity would cause problems for Erik and Christine, and heaven knew that the two of them had been through enough. No, it was better if he didn't know.

She quickly pushed the ignore button. Opening her phone, she saw that he had called her no less than eight times. Then, her screen flashed with a voicemail notification. She shook her head. Her class started in just a few minutes. She didn't have time to listen to Raoul's childish complaints. She would call him back after class and tell him to leave her alone once and for all.

So, she turned off her phone and placed it in her purse, angrily exclaiming, "Raoul, stop calling me!"

o0o

Raoul shook his head. "Her phone is going straight to voicemail," he informed Andre. "It must be turned off, and I doubt she'll call me back."

The older man began to sweat. This was not good. If contact with Miss Daae could not be made, them he would have failed his assignment. And, Buquet would be so displeased if he failed. There had to be another way!

"Maybe we should just go to the police?" Raoul suggested anxiously. "If you tell them what you told me, surely they would try harder to find her?"

Andre watched the boy, suddenly realizing what he must do._ It's either him or me._

"Professor?"

With surprising speed, Andre withdrew a gun from his pocket. Before Raoul could protest, he was struck in the head and surrounded by blackness.

Andre wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. Carefully, he checked Raoul's pulse. Good, the boy was still alive. He would deal with him later.

Suddenly, he heard a phone ringing. He searched Raoul's pockets and found his phone. Well, wasn't he the fortunate one? He answered the phone.

"Hello?" said Meg.

"Hello, Miss Giry. Don't speak, just listen, please. I have a friend of yours with me, and he's badly injured. If you cooperate, I'll take him to a hospital. If not..." He allowed his voice to trail off meaningfully.

"Is this some kind of twisted joke?" the female voice demanded.

"I assure you, it's not. But, perhaps you would like some proof?"

Meg felt her phone vibrate and looked at the screen. What she made her blood run cold. Swallowing, she held the phone back up and asked, "What is it you want me to do?"

**Posted on January 16, 2012**

**Don't be angry! Just keep reading...**


	34. Deliberations

**Chapter twenty-nine: Deliberations**

Christine restlessly flipped through the pages of her book. She had only been awake for five hours, but she was already bored. With a sigh, she placed the book in her lap. This was only the first day Erik would be gone. She didn't want to think about tomorrow.

An idea suddenly struck her. Erik had given her a cell phone when he left. Only three numbers were programmed into it: his, Nadir's, and Meg's. What if she invited Meg over to visit? She would have to find a way to learn her address, but that couldn't be too hard. Mary would probably know. Of course, Erik wouldn't like it if she gave it away, but she hated being alone, and Meg was her best friend. Surely he would understand.

Having made her decision, she grabbed her phone and dialed Meg's number.

Meg answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Meg, hi! It's Christine."

"Christine! Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

Christine laughed. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Listen, I was wondering –"

"Something has happened," the blond interrupted. "There's something you need to see."

Christine frowned. Her best friend wasn't one to panic, yet she definitely sounded frantic. The next moment, her phone vibrated. She took it from her ear to look at it… and almost screamed in horror.

Meg had sent her a picture of a young man's body. His head was bloody and he was haphazardly sprawled out on the ground.

It was Raoul.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded.

"Professor Andre sent it to me," Meg explained, her voice shaking. "He said he'll take Raoul to a hospital if…"

"_If_ what, Meg?"

"If you meet him in three hours at the old theater. You're supposed to go alone."

Christine swallowed. She instinctively knew Buquet was involved, and she knew what would happen if she went to meet him.

Yet, if she didn't go, Erik would have to go, and she couldn't let that happen. Furthermore, Raoul's life was on the line because of her. Buquet wanted _her, _and he would never leave her or Erik in peace until he ultimately won.

"I have to go, Meg," she said softly.

"No!" Meg immediately protested. "He doesn't want to just _talk,_ Christine. His boss will be there, and he'll rape or kill you. Probably both."

"Raoul has a head injury, Meg. I won't let him die. You must not tell anyone where I've gone until he's safe. Then, call the police."

"I will." Meg was in tears. "Please be careful."

"I'll be careful. Oh, and Meg?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare tell Erik."

o0o

As soon the call ended, Christine went into action. First, she changed out of her blouse and skirt into more durable clothes: a plain black sweater, jeans, and sneakers. She didn't know how long she would be gone, and she needed clothes that wouldn't get in her way.

The hardest part would be finding a car. She searched all of the rooms, but she couldn't find any car keys. She looked at her watch and almost screamed in frustration. An hour had flown by already. If she didn't leave soon, she would never make it to the old theater in time. The slamming of a door made her jump, and her first instinct was to hide. She stood inside the doorway, hardly daring to breathe.

"Hello?" came a woman's voice. "Christine? Mr. Campion? Is anyone here?"

She leaned against the wall in relief. It was only Mary. Quickly taking a couple of deep breaths to regain her composure, she walked into the kitchen. Mary was setting her purse onto the counter, and her worried expression disappeared when she saw Christine. "Oh, there you are. I called for you, but no one answered."

"I'm sorry," Christine replied. "I was in the other room reading and didn't hear you at first." While smiling on the outside, her brain was rapidly planning. If she could get Mary to leave her purse unattended for just a minute…

"Mary, I want to plan a special dinner for tonight."

The older woman's eyes lit and she smiled. "For Mr. Campion when he returns? A romantic dinner?"

Christine swallowed. _Erik… _What would he do when he returned to find her gone? Would he think she had abandoned him? Would he think she didn't love him?

Mary was waiting for an answer, so she said, "Yes. I know he likes wine, but since I can't drink it, I don't know what kind to serve him."

"Ah, leave that to me! I will go to the cellar and fetch some. You start looking through the cookbook and have our aprons ready when I return." After patting the girl's cheek fondly, she left.

Christine didn't waste any time. She ran to Mary's purse and dug through it until she found what she was looking for: car keys. As she grabbed them, she saw her wedding ring on her finger. She stared at it for several moments. Chances were that she would never see Erik again. He would be devastated. Leaving the ring for him would be the least she could do. She wiggled it off her finger and began to set it on the counter. But, before she could go through with it, Erik's words echoed in her mind: _"All I ask is that you always wear my ring. If you wear it, I will always be your friend." _She lifted it again and read the inscription: _fate links me to thee forever and a day!" _No, to leave the ring would break his heart even more.

Without further deliberations, she placed the ring back on her finger and left the house.

**Posted on February 4, 2012**


	35. Risk

**Okay, I know you guys are reading because I'm receiving a bunch of story notification alerts. But, you haven't been leaving reviews for me. *sad face* Just in case there's any confusion about this process, I've helpfully written step-by-step instructions for you.**

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**Chapter Thirty: Risk**

She kept waiting for something to happen: a phone call, police sirens… anything. She was certain Mary had called the authorities to report her missing car, but the road was abandoned. Perhaps she hadn't realized her ward was gone? In any case, nothing happened.

Once she stopped shaking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Raoul's number.

Andre picked up on the third ring. "Hello, Miss Daaė."

"You can tell your boss that I'm on my way."

"Good. Now, please destroy your phone."

She laughed scornfully. "How will you know if I do or don't?"

"If I can't reach your voice mailbox, I'll believe you. You don't want to cross him, young lady." Then, he ended the call.

She didn't know what to do or think. For all she knew, Andre wasn't capable of determining whether or not her cell phone was destroyed. Going to meet Buquet was dangerous enough without having a way to call for help.

But, she had heard the menace in his voice. It was too risky; Raoul's life was at stake. So, she rolled down the window and threw out the phone.

She checked the dashboard clock. She would arrive at the old theater in about an hour. She had time. She pulled into a nearby Waffle House, parked, and went inside. Good, there were other customers. She sat at the front where anyone else who entered would see her and ordered some coffee and an omelet. She didn't know how long it would be before she ate again, so she might as well be prepared.

She didn't know what was in store.

o0o

Meg nearly jumped out of her seat when her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID right before she pushed the talk button. "Where is he?" she demanded.

"You certainly don't beat around the bush, do you, Miss Giry?" he chuckled. "I like that in a woman."

Her grip tightened around the phone. "You're sick," she spat. "You promised to take him to the hospital. Christine is on her way; keep your promise."

"The plans have changed. I'll leave him here, and you can come rescue him."

"I don't even know where you are, and by the time I reach him, he might be dead."

"I suppose you should hurry, then, shouldn't you? He's at 1987 Leroux Lane. He's fading fast."

Meg grabbed her purse. It was risky to go to Raoul, but she had no other option. She couldn't allow her friend to die simply because she wanted to avoid a slight chance of danger. "What do you –"

"Better hurry, Miss Giry."

_Click._

The line went dead.

o0o

Glenda had just clocked into work when a young, pale woman entered the Waffle House. She watched as the girl sat down and buried her face in her hands. She looked frightened and exhausted, and she was shivering.

The waitress was a good-natured busybody, so she couldn't help but pry just a little as she poured the young woman some coffee. "Is everything alright, honey?"

"Yes ma'am," the girl answered in a soft voice. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Well, drink up your coffee. You look like you're freezing."

"Thank you."

She continued to watch as the girl ate. Every few minutes, she glanced at her watch. Glenda made sure she refilled her coffee mug often. _Poor dear, _she thought.

When the young woman rose to leave, she brought her a to-go cup of coffee. "Here's one for the road, sweetie."

The girl's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you." She started to leave, but when she reached the door, she paused. "My name is Christine Daaė."

Before Glenda could say another word, the girl was gone.

**Posted on: February 28, 2012**


	36. Darkness

**I know I'm about to get requests for longer chapters, but you guys have to understand that on my computer, this takes up three pages using 12-point Times New Roman font single-spacing. I'm not one for writing for the purpose of filling up space. I say what I think needs to be said and leave it at that. Chapters should get longer, but it all depends on what's happening in the story.**

**R & R.**

**Chapter Thirty-one: Darkness**

Raoul woke groaning. His head was throbbing and his vision was blurry. It was pitch black; he couldn't see anything. "Hello?" he managed to yell. No one answered. _Where am I? What happened? _he wondered. He tried to recall what led him there, and then, he froze. _What… who… _As panic overwhelmed him, he realized what was wrong.

He couldn't remember anything.

o0o

Meg was fortunate: no policeman pulled her over for reckless driving. She sped through the streets and ignored bus stops and red lights. Each second brought Raoul closer to death. She couldn't afford to be delayed.

1987 Leroux Lane was on the other side of town, but it only took her eight minutes to reach it. She nearly jumped out of her car before parking it. Cramming her cell phone into her back pocket, she raced to the old, run-down house. The front door was unlocked, but the lights were off, surrounding her with darkness past the doorway. She warily made her way through the house. "Hello? Raoul?" she called.

No answer. She would have to venture further into the darkness. Swallowing her fear, she moved out of the light of the doorway.

o0o

Christine sat the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared at the old theater. The building was condemned and not a soul was in sight. Of course, she knew that someone was waiting inside for her in the darkness…

She sighed. She could no longer prolong the inevitable meeting. "Forgive me, Erik," she whispered. Then, she left the safety of the car and entered the abandoned theater.

As she walked through the doorway, she was met with cold air. She tried to suppress her shivering, though; she knew Buquet was nearby, probably watching her, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "Hello? I'm here! You can let Raoul go!"

"How nice of you to come, Miss Daaë," came a silky voice. She whirled around and saw her professor emerge from the shadows of the staircase. Christine automatically took a step backwards. "Very foolish of you, but pleasing just the same," he continued, beady black eyes boring into hers.

"You left me no choice!" she reminded him angrily. "Now, tell Andre to take Raoul to the hospital."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Christine."

Chills ran through her. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

He only laughed. "Use your imagination." Her face paled, and he smiled sadistically. "Surely you didn't think I could let your boyfriend or your little blond friend live to tell tales? I remember you as being bright, Christine. I have you exactly where I want you. I'm not going to let you escape me this time."

Her resolve broke. She turned and ran. She barely made it to the door when she was grabbed from behind. She screamed and clawed the face of her attacker, and she managed to bite his hand. She felt a savage sort of satisfaction when he yelled in pain. Then, something struck her face, and her world went dark.

o0o

Raoul was curled up in the corner, shivering and fighting to stay conscious. If only he could stand and run, run away from the darkness! But, the pain and dizziness caused by his head rendered this impossible.

"Hello? Raoul, where are you?"

Someone was out there! He groaned as another wave of pain jolted through his body. Perhaps the owner of the voice meant to do him harm, but he needed help too badly to be cautious. "Help me!" he cried. "Please, help me!"

"I hear you!" The voice was closer now.

"Hurry!" he begged. "I'm hurt… my head…" he couldn't finish; a gasp of pain stole his voice.

He heard footsteps, and soon, a figure was before him. He couldn't make out its face due to the darkness, but he was so relieved he started crying.

"Shhh, it's alright," Meg murmured as he whimpered like a wounded puppy. She hugged him, and his arms wrapped around her tightly as though he was terrified to let go of her. She managed to extract her phone out of her pocket and dialed _911. _

_"911 _what's your emergency?" the officer answered.

"Yes, I have a man with a head injury and possible shock," she explained urgently.

"Alright, miss. What's your location?"

"1987 Leroux Lane."

"We will be there in about ten minutes, ma'am. Try to keep him conscious and don't move him."

"Thank you!" Meg hung up and took Raoul's face in her hands. "It's going to be alright," she told him soothingly. "We're going to get you out of here." Then, she asked, "Do you mind if I turn on the light? I need to see your injury."

"Okay," he replied weakly. Meg felt along the wall until she felt a light switch. _There! _She turned it on and light filled the room.

Raoul looked up at her and recoiled in horror. "What's wrong?" Meg asked, alarmed by his reaction. She turned… and screamed. Professor Andre was directly behind her, blocking the doorway.

In his hand was a knife.

**Posted on March 26, 2012**


	37. Lured

**Your reviews have encouraged me so much that this chapter came easily, and I didn't want to make any of you wait. It's a bit longer, just like I promised. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do because I've been looking forward to it since I first thought of this story. Let me know what you think!**

**Chapter Thirty-two: Lured**

Meg managed to dodge Andre's blow, the knife just barely missing her side. He lost his balance and stumbled forward. She took the opportunity to dash from the room. She knew he would choose to pursue her. Raoul wasn't moving anytime soon; she was a much bigger liability. She hoped to use that knowledge to lure Andre away from Raoul. If she could only keep his focus on her until the police arrived, both she and Raoul might make it out alive.

She was only halfway down the stairs when she heard the sound of running footsteps behind her. Throwing caution to the wind, she ran through the dark house at break-neck speed. Her eyes could hardly discern anything in the darkness; she was practically blind.

As she ran, her ankle caught on something and she hit the ground with a loud _thud. _Quickly jumping up, she took off again, wincing as her ankle now throbbed painfully. It was a miracle Andre hadn't found her when she fell. He must be having as much trouble in the dark as she was, and she was beyond thankful.

Still, her ankle wasn't going to be able to endure much more running. She needed to find a place to hide. She limped into a room and found what seemed to be a closet. She moved to the back wall and crouched down, breathing as quietly as possible and listening for a sign of her pursuer. _Please, don't let him find me! _she begged. She didn't know how much time had passed. It could have been ten minutes since she called the police, or it could have been five minutes. All she could do is cower in the darkness and wait to be found, whether it be by those who wanted to save her or he who wanted to kill her.

Just as she believed she and Raoul were going to be safe after all, she heard footsteps. Her heart stopped as she heard Andre walk into the room and stop just a few feet from the closet. She bit her lip, and it took everything within her not to scream in terror, to jump up and run away. _No! He doesn't know I'm here. He'll probably leave in a minute._

"Miss Giry!" Andre called, his voice filled with frustration and anger. "I know you're in here! Why don't you come out and save us both the trouble? If you come out, I might spare your friend upstairs since he doesn't seem to remember anything." He moved closer, and Meg felt tears running down her face. "I'm tired of playing, Miss Giry!" Suddenly, the closet light turned on, and there was Andre, filling the doorway, the knife gleaming menacingly in his hand. She screamed and grabbed the first thing her hand felt: an umbrella. As he moved to stab her with the knife, she managed to block him with the umbrella. A battle of strength began. Meg's knees were shaking and she was on the verge of collapse. She knew she wouldn't last for long. _I have to hold him off so he can't hurt Raoul, _she told herself. The knife slowly but steadily moved closer. She whimpered, and Andre smiled triumphantly.

_Bang!_

Andre went stiff. Meg watched with wide eyes as he crumpled to the ground. She stared for several long moments while a man in a police uniform entered the closet. "Are you alright?" he demanded.

She nodded. He moved towards her and gently escorted her out of the closet. Once she was in the room, she began threw her arms around him and sobbed. He allowed her to hug him for a while before asking, "Where the man you told us is injured?"

She pulled away and took a few deep breaths to compose herself. "He's upstairs. Here, I'll show you."

"Do you know why he was doing this, ma'am?"

She froze, dread filling her body. "Yes," she whispered. "Christine."

"Christine?" the officer asked. "Who is Christine?"

"She's at the old theater. She had to go meet the man behind all of this or Raoul was going to be killed." Meg looked at him, panic rising within her. "Please, you have to help her! Don't let him hurt her!"

"We'll send backup to the old theater immediately. Everything is going to be alright, ma'am."

Still, Meg couldn't ignore the feeling that the officer was wrong.

o0o

Christine woke with a groan. Her head was pounding, and her eyelids were so heavy. A fog clouded her mind, and it took her a few moments to remember everything. She tried to stretch, but her arms felt like lead. She couldn't lift them. She tried again, and then, she realized they were bound by her side. Her eyes flew open, and she saw two things. The first was that she was tied to a chair.

The second was the gloating face of Joseph Buquet.

"Honestly, Professor," she said sarcastically. "I really believed we were past all of this."

He chuckled appreciatively. "I'm glad to see your sense of humor is still intact, Christine. I think you will enjoy our time together _almost _as much as I will."

"And, what do you intend to do during that time?" she asked bitterly.

"Oh, I think you know what my intentions are, my dear. Don't play naïve."

She strained against her ropes, earning another laugh from him. "You're disgusting," she spat, "and you're delusional if you think I will _ever _enjoy being anywhere near you."

From out of nowhere, something struck her cheek. She cried aloud in pain and shock.

"Careful, Firmin," Buquet instructed smoothly. "We don't want too many bruises on her lovely face."

That was the first time she noticed the five large men behind her. "What's the matter?" she asked mockingly. "Did you really need backup for one girl?"

"Still playing the student, Christine? I didn't need backup for you. They are here in case we have company later."

Her heart sank and her blood ran cold. "He doesn't even know I'm gone," she said anxiously. "He doesn't need to be dragged into this."

"Unfortunately, I disagree. There happens to be a great deal of bad blood between myself and Erik. What better way to settle scores between us than through you?"

"He doesn't know where I am! Leave Erik out of this!" she shouted, panic rising within her again.

The evil man smiled. "He will know soon enough." He pulled out a cell phone and dialed Erik's number. Christine's eyes widened in horror. "Please, no!" she begged. He ignored her. "Ah, Erik! How are you, my old friend?" He paused a moment, then said, "I think it will interest you to know that I am enjoying the most pleasant company right now. She – no, I haven't hurt her." Christine could hear Erik's enraged voice through the phone, and her eyes filled with tears. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid, but she knew without a doubt that Erik would come for her.

"You want to talk to her?" Buquet was now saying pleasantly. "Of course you may. Christine, say hello." He walked over and placed the phone to her ear. Christine shook her head violently. "Make her talk, Firmin."

The blow to her abdomen shook her to the core, but she managed to bite her lip and remain silent. "Again!" Buquet growled. When Firmin struck her again, she couldn't stop the cry of pain from escaping her lips.

"Christine!" she heard Erik shout. "Christine, where are you?"

"Erik, I'm fine," she managed to choke. "Please, Erik, don't come; I'm fine."

"Christine –"

"Tell him to come rescue you, Christine," Buquet told her menacingly. She glared at him defiantly. "Don't come, Erik," she repeated. "If you love me, you won't come!"

Buquet snatched the phone away, and she heard Erik crying her name frantically. The tears ran freely down her cheeks, and she looked away.

"As you can tell, I have taken excellent care of her. No, I will not hurt her as long as you come meet me. We're at the old theater. I'll call you every half hour to ensure that she's still in good health. You have three hours." Then, he ended the call.

"I hate you," Christine whispered.

Buquet's expression blackened. "Be careful who you're talking to," he hissed. Then, he turned to his companions. "Time to move, boys," he announced.

Christine's eyes widened. "Move?" she asked.

Buquet smiled. "Of course. Although, I'm sure you will hate to miss Erik's surprise." Then, he said to Firmin, "I want all of you to stay here. Call me once it's done."

She understood immediately. "No!" she screamed. "You can't do this!"

The men laughed. Buquet shook his head. "My dear Christine, I believe I already have."

**Posted on March 29, 2012**


	38. Interlude: Rescue and Sacrifice

**Two words: Work and college.**

**R&R.**

**Interlude: Rescue and Sacrifice**

I knew something was wrong the moment I entered the auditorium. I'd gathered Buquet's required payment from various sources of mine that were spread throughout the country. Then, I waited until midnight, just as I was instructed. It didn't take long for me to reach the conclusion that he wasn't going to meet me.

Instantly, I felt concerned. No one knew better than I the extent of Buquet's ruthlessness. If arranging for me to come to the theater was a ruse, he must be after something… or someone…

My phone was out of my pocket and dialing Christine's number in a matter of moments. "Come on, pick up," I muttered. I needed to hear her soft voice. I needed her to assure me that all was well with her. But, the only voice I heard was the service informing me that her number was no longer available.

I was shocked. Why would Christine destroy her phone? Had she done it on accident, or… My fists clenched. Was all of it a lie? Had she stomached her revulsion of me and played me to earn my trust? Was this betrayal her revenge against me? _Of course, _I thought bitterly. _She never loved you. She was only waiting for the perfect opportunity to escape you. She – _

The phone rang, interrupting my train of thought. "Hello?" I answered tensely, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Ah, Erik!" the sinister voice on the other end of the line said. My grip tightened on the phone so much it was a wonder it didn't break. "How are you, my old friend?" he inquired in a seemingly amiable voice. I gritted my teeth. Never is Buquet more amiable than when he's ready to strike some kind of deal. "What do you want?" I snapped.

"I think it will interest you to know that I am enjoying the most pleasant company right now. She –"

"_Christine!" _I was a fool for not foreseeing this! She hadn't run away from me. No, she was in the hands of my bitterest enemy. The image of his lecherous hands defiling her entered my mind, and the urge to kill swept through me. "I swear, if you have harmed her in any way –"

"No, I haven't hurt her," Buquet assured me, sounding amused.

"Let her go! She has no part in this!" I shouted, my blood boiling. "Let me talk to her so I know you're telling me the truth."

"You want to talk to her? Of course you may." His voice grew muffled as he said, "Christine, say hello." Then, after a few moments of silence, I heard him say, "Make her talk, Firmin." I can only imagine the methods they used, and I listened helplessly as the order was given again and she gave a cry of pain. "Christine!" I shouted, desperately trying to make them stop their torment. "Christine, where are you?"

"Erik, I'm fine," she told me weakly. The fear and pain in her voice nearly broke me. I swore to myself that Buquet and his vermin would pay for every mark they placed upon her body. "Please, Erik," she continued, "don't come; I'm fine."

She was lying. She was trying to protect me, even in the midst of peril. Shame washed over me. How could I have doubted her? "Christine –"

"Tell him to come rescue you, Christine," Buquet encouraged dangerously. So, this was his game! He meant to bait me with Christine, and we both knew that I would leap into hell itself to save her. She knew this, too, and repeated pleadingly, "Don't come, Erik. If you love me, you won't come."

Buquet cursed, and then, I heard a scuffle. "Christine! _Christine!" _

"As you can tell, I have taken excellent care of her."

"If you hurt her –" My threats were pointless. I was already going to kill him.

"No, I will not hurt her as long as you come meet me. We're at the old theater. I'll call you every half hour to ensure that she's still in good health. You have two hours." Then, the line went dead.

I wasted no time. I ran to my car. "Please, God, keep her safe!" I muttered. Any other time, I would have scorned the idea of prayer, but this was different. Christine's life was at stake, and it would take a miracle for me to save her.

I forced myself not to think of her in Buquet's hands as I drove. Instead, I filled my mind with memories of my time with her: the first time I heard her sing, the time we danced together, the way she fell asleep in my car, her fury at being taken, her working in the kitchen with the smudge of flour on her cheek, her acceptance of my face, the nights I would hold her and hear her whisper _"I love you." _Her laughing, her rolling her eyes, her look of intense concentration… I loved every part of her, for every part of her was beautiful.

My reverie was broken when my phone rang. Instantly, it was at my ear. "I want to hear her voice, now," I demanded.

"Your wish is my command," replied Buquet's snide voice. A moment later, I heard a man's cry of pain. "You stupid…"

"Do _not _hit me again," Christine snapped. For a moment, I smiled. She was a fighter. "It sounds like she's giving you trouble, Buquet," I said. "Perhaps you would like me to take her off your hands for you?"

"Thank you, but I'll keep her just the same," he replied before ending the call.

I drove faster. She was alive, but if she kept angering them, it was only a matter of time before one of the thugs snapped and hit her too hard or in the wrong place in a fit of anger.

"Hold on, Christine," I pleaded. "I'm coming."

o0o

I approached the old theater cautiously. It appeared dark, but I knew it was a deception; demons lurked without its walls. I was no fool. I knew Buquet's men were hiding in wait, no doubt with orders to kill me.

My suspicions proved true when I heard faint but distinct breathing behind me. I let him come closer, closer... Then, right before he struck, I turned and threw my Punjab lasso. One pull was all it took and his body crashed to the ground. Another soon followed as he attacked, obviously thinking I was distracted.

I ventured further into the theater. Two more rushed out of the shadows, both holding knives. I used my lasso to grab one of their wrists. He screamed as his wrists broke, and I quickly stabbed him. The other man watched me for a moment, and I looked him in the eyes. "Leave now and I will spare you," I offered.

He didn't need to hear it twice. He turned and ran. Right before he reached the doorway, however, a shape larger than all of the others grabbed him. "No, please..." the coward begged. His voice was cut off and he hit the ground. The large shape turned towards me. I recognized him. He was Buquet's right-hand man, Firmin. He was a large brute who was known for his cruelty and for having no regard for human life.

He was sizing me up. "You know, it won't do you any good," he told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, watching him warily.

"They're not here. She's out of your reach now. You thought you would rescue her, but your sacrifice has been for nothing. Buquet will get what he wants from her, and then, he will kill her."

Rage boiled through me. "Where has he taken her?"

But, Firmin only laughed.

Then, he attacked.

**Posted on June 20, 2012**


	39. Blame

**Chapter Thirty-three: Blame**

Glenda gripped her notepad tightly in order to stay patient. "Will that be all for you, sir?" she asked as nicely as possible.

"Make sure that bacon is extra crispy, Flo, alright?"

"Extra crispy. Got it." She walked away before he could add anything else to his already complicated order. "That guy is a piece of work," she muttered to her co-worker.

Dion grinned. "What, did he call you 'Flo' again?"

"Yes!" she snapped irritably. "He always comes in, makes his food almost impossible to cook, complains about it, and never tips. I'd like to give him a piece of my mind!" She took a deep breath to continue her rant, but then, her jaw dropped in astonishment. Dion looked at her in confusion. "Hey, Glenda, are you alright?"

"Oh… my… gosh…" was all she managed to say, pointing at the tv. Dion turned and watched as a news reporter spoke into the camera.

"_Police say a new lead has been found concerning Christine Daaė, who has been missing since September. It is believed she is being held captive by this man – _a picture appeared of a middle-aged man named Joseph Buquet – _somewhere along the state lines. Please call our number listed if you see anything that can assist the local authorities."_

Dion's eyes widened. "Hey, isn't that the girl…"

"She was right here," Glenda said faintly. "She was sitting right here."

Her co-worker put his hand on her shoulder. "Stay here." He quickly turned and grabbed the phone. He dialed _911 _and handed it to Glenda. She cleared her throat and said, "Hello? I have information about that missing girl, Christine. I saw her."

o0o

Meg sat outside with a blanket wrapped around her, watching as the ambulance carrying an unconscious Raoul took off down the street. Medics carried another stretcher out of the house, this one covered by a sheet. The police were inside the house. She was alone.

Her phone buzzed. Absentmindedly, she glanced at it. _Nadir Khan. _Quickly, she answered it. "Hey."

"What's going on?" the Persian demanded. "I turn on the tv, and suddenly, I learn that Buquet has Christine and you and Raoul have narrowly escaped death!"

"I did what I had to do," she explained wearily. "What else could I have done?"

The voice on the other end of the line sighed. "At least Erik is out there looking for her."

Dread filled Meg. "Actually... Erik doesn't know she's gone."

Silence.

"_WHAT?"_

"The deal was for Christine to meet Buquet alone in exchange for Raoul's life. She told me not to tell Erik. She was afraid he would follow her."

"Of course he would follow her, Meg!" the man groaned. "He will _kill _for her, don't you understand that? And, with the police looking for Christine, he won't be able to escape. Not this time."

Meg was close to tears as she understood the meaning of his words. She knew he was right. Erik would be caught and charged with murder. He and Christine would be separated, and it would be all her fault. "Well, maybe Erik doesn't know yet," she answered hopefully.

"It's Erik, Meg," Nadir replied coldly. "He knows. The clock is ticking; it's only a matter of time until he gets caught."

o0o

Christine winced as the metal once again pinched her skin. "Honestly, did you have to make them so tight?" she snapped at her captor.

He smiled. "If you ask nicely, I can loosen them for you." He reached out a hand to touch her, and in a flash, she bit his hand. He swore and backed away angrily. "It won't be that easy," she reminded him. "I'm not giving you anything, you filthy freak."

He turned back to her. "A freak, am I? Is that what you called Erik when he took you?"

She glowered. "You don't know anything."

"As a matter of fact, I do, Miss Daaė. I know more about him than you ever will. Tell me this: have you seen beneath his mask yet?"

"I have," she answered defiantly. His eyebrows rose in surprise, and she smiled grimly. "What? You didn't expect that, did you?" she taunted.

His eyes narrowed. "So, you've seen the monster in the flesh."

"He's not a monster," she retorted. "You are!"

He only laughed and crossed his arms. "Oh, so you're a believer that people's actions determine their character, are you? Then, allow me to enlighten you on some of Erik's actions, and then, you can judge him." She squirmed. _She doesn't know much about his past, _he thought smugly. _I'll enjoy smashing her illusions once and for all. Even if Erik manages to find her, she'll never want to go back with him._

"He wasn't only a partner in the crime organization," he stated. "He was one of the ring leaders. He _specialized _in arranging assassinations. He carried out the high-profile ones himself. He's a murderer."

"I know," Christine said quietly.

That made Buquet's jaw drop. _"You know?" _he hissed. "You know and you still stayed with him? Are you daft, woman?"

"No," the girl replied steadily. "I'm not."

"Then why –"

"I love him."

Buquet couldn't believe it. The girl before him, handcuffed and bruised, was hardly more than a girl. She certainly didn't look like much. _It can't be possible. No one can love him. _Rage welled within him, and quick as a snake, he slapped her. "You're a fool," he hissed. She shrank from him, trembling. "His love for you is why you were targeted. You're only a tool, a means to an end. His love for you is what will destroy him." Tears streamed down her cheeks, and he felt a twisted sort of satisfaction knowing his words had struck home with her. He turned away from her. "And, guess what? You get to live with the knowledge that it's all your fault."

**Posted on July 3, 2012**


	40. Losing

**I know it has been a ridiculously long time, and you have my most sincere apologies. I now know exactly how I want this story to end, and I'm going to do my absolute best to finish it before school starts back. Pinky-promise.**

**Chapter Thirty-four: Losing**

Meg sat in the passenger seat of the speeding car. Nadir drove silently beside her. They had stolen a police radio in order to track their location and progress. Their only hope was to find Erik and Christine before the police.

"If Buquet is still alive, Erik won't be arrested, right?" she wondered hopefully to her companion. "There's no way Christine will admit he kidnapped her, so the police won't have any reason to put him in jail."

Nadir laughed harshly at her naivete. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

Dread filled Meg's heart at his bitter tone. "What do you mean?" she asked, though she was uncertain if she really wanted to know.

"Erik is no saint," Nadir explained bluntly. "He has blood on his hands. Innocent blood. And, while he's an expert at covering his tracks, a few months ago, some files were stolen from him. Files that would give the authorities motive to lock him away for the rest of his life. And, that's just the first page! Erik is wanted in many countries, dead or alive, Meg. Some would prefer him dead. There's a large bounty on his head. He's a criminal, and a deadly one at that."

Meg stared at him for several long moments, certain he was going to laugh any moment, that he was only playing some cruel joke to relieve his stress.

The laughter never came. "It's... it's true?" she whispered. Nadir nodded. "But, Christine..."

Nadir turned away from her, but she saw something silvery escape from his right eye. "He was giving up that life, Meg," he told her quietly. "He loves her. When he met Christine, everything changed. I've known him for over twenty years and never thought it was possible, but _he _changed. He was going to leave this country and start over, with her. _For _her." He shook his head and concentrated on the road again. "I only pray we're not too late to save both of them."

o0o

She cried silently. For how long, she didn't know. Buquet was unsuccessful in drawing another word from her, and eventually, he took to pacing the room. She retreated within her own mind, the one place he couldn't hurt her. _Erik is going to be fine, _she assured herself. He had to be fine; she couldn't bear to imagine any alternative. She held onto her last shred of hope as desperately as she could with each moment Buquet didn't receive the expected phone call. She braced herself for it, but it was taking a long time, and her already frayed nerves were on the verge of collapsing.

She wasn't the only one to notice the delay. Buquet repeatedly looked at his watch and muttered under his breath. She caught the words, "taking so long."

Then, the phone rang. Her heart dropped as he answered. "Why haven't you called me? Buquet demanded angrily. However, his face paled slightly as he listened. As the minutes passed, he began to pace the room again. Christine watched his every move. The more his anxiety rose, the easier she breathed. Dare she hope? Dare she believe Erik had survived the trap placed for him?

"It doesn't matter," Buquet was saying now. "If he does come, I'll take care of him myself. He won't dare try anything with her present." He turned, and though she tried to quickly look away, he caught her watching him and smiled. "If anything changes, notify me immediately," he said into the phone before replacing it in his pocket. Then, he re-approached his captive and knelt next to her. "Perhaps it will be good for him to die before your very eyes," he mused aloud. "Maybe that will strip you of your haughty attitude." He picked up a strand of her hair and twisted it around his finger. She didn't reply or react; instead, she stared straight ahead of her at the wall. He chuckled. "Or, perhaps he's already gone, lying cold in some ditch, never to be found. Maybe it's just us now." His hand trailed up her neck to her cheek. Christine's eyes slid shut, and a single tear slipped from beneath her eyelid. His rank breath filled her nostrils and the sound of his breathing increased excitedly. "So," he whispered, "why should we prolong the inevitable?" He suddenly pulled her hair, causing her to scream and forcing her to look at him. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he told her as his fingers traveled back down her neck. He watched as she closed her eyes for a brief moment to deliberate and took a shuddering breath to steady herself. Then, she opened them, and her eyes looked dead. "The easy way," she whispered brokenly, pleadingly. "I'll do whatever you say. Just don't hurt me anymore."

He grinned lecherously. "That's what I want to hear," he approved. He pulled out a key and quickly unshackled her. Her shoulders ached from being contorted, and she rubbed her red-rimmed, sore wrists while rolling her ankles in circles and trying to restore the feeling in them. Her moment of relief was brief, though, for she was quickly seized and lifted to her feet. Buquet roughly pushed his vile lips against hers in a kiss that was more of a mauling. As he forced his tongue into her mouth, instinct took over, and she bit his tongue. Then, she raised her knee _hard_. He screamed in agony and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. His hand reached for her, but she sidestepped him and he stumbled. Then, her fragile control broke, and she ran. But, her legs were weak from the long restraint. One fatal stumble and she was re-captured.

With furious force, Buquet slammed her against the wall, his beady eyes glaring into hers. "I can't believe you fell for that again," she taunted, the adrenaline rising within her. Before she could continue, his hand struck her face. Her head flew back, hitting the wall. Her vision turned blurry and she tried to focus on the leering face in front of her. _If only I can make him angry enough to snap... If only I can make him kill me. _She knew there was no hope for her. Erik would find them, but as long as Christine was there, he would do everything to protect her. With her wounded and unable to run, his only option would be to fight, and if an attack had been made against his life by Buquet's pawns, he might be wounded. He might lose. She would be a distraction that could cost Erik his life. "You may as well kill me now," she said with resigned calm. "You and I both know there's no 'easy way' for either of us. Neither of us are going to win. I'll never let you touch me without a fight, I'll never submit to you, and I promise you the police are searching for me by now. I was spotted before I met you. I went into a diner, spoke with my waitress, and told her my name. Do you really have time for such banality?"

The man cursed, realizing the girl was right. He still wanted her, to hurt her, but with every moment, the risk of discovery increased. "Fine," he growled as he drew his gun. "Have it your way." His finger caressed the trigger... Christine closed her eyes, preparing to die … _Erik, I love you..._

"BUQUET!" a voice suddenly rang out before the fatal moment.

A sadistic smile crossed Buquet's face. His finger withdrew from the trigger as he turned to face the intruder.

Erik stood in the doorway. Dark power emanating from his tall, regal form. He took a step closer. "Erik, no!" Christine cried, horror and panic overtaking her. _No! No, no, no..._

"Be quiet, girl," Buquet snarled. "I think my old friend and I have business to discuss," sneering at the word _friend._ He gestured towards the chair. "Sit." It wasn't an invitation.

Warily, Erik slowly moved towards the chair and lowered himself into it. His nemesis stood between him and Christine. Their eyes met for one brief moment, both filled with worry for the other.

"Perhaps you would like to tell me however you managed to make it here in one piece," Buquet suggested with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Erik smirked. "Come now, Buquet," he reprimanded as if speaking to a child. "You should have known your body-building idiots would be incapable of detaining me."

"So, Firmin..."

"I killed him." He answered as casually and coolly as if discussing the weather. Christine winced. Buquet noticed and smiled. "It's a hard thing to hear, isn't it, my dear?" he asked, running a hand down her cheek for the sole purpose of enraging the man in the chair.

"Eyes on me, Buquet!" Erik demanded. Their captor's attention became fixed on Erik once more, who was standing in front of his chair. "SIT DOWN!" Buquet roared.

Erik returned to his seat. "That was a warning," he informed him. "As you said, we have business to discuss. This business does not concern my wife. Keep your eyes and hands from her. I am your enemy, not her."

Buquet only cocked his head to the side, feigning confusion. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. Christine chose to meet me. She involved herself."

"She came because you manipulated her," Erik corrected. "Let us be frank, yes? Why are you so determined to kill me? This is beyond lust for a student who spurned you. What feeds your desire for some ill-placed attempt at revenge?"

Buquet trained the gun at the masked man before him. "You were leaving," he spat. "You were betraying your colleagues, betraying the very organization you founded! You turned against us and shut down operations!"

"Ah," Erik said quietly. "That's it. You were the one who had my files stolen. I destroyed the slave market... _your _chief operation. You were going to expose me to the other members, but when I decided to leave..."

"Yes," Buquet affirmed. "They wanted you dead, but you went missing. You _disappeared. _But, you had a weakness. For the first time, Erik Campion, master assassin, first-class criminal, had a weakness."

"Christine has never been a weakness," Erik rebutted softly.

"Oh, but she _is," _his enemy said gleefully. "You're a master of evasion. You have the best survival skills in the world. Casualties have never bothered you before; you've never needed to _protect _anyone."

"And, when she refused you and chose _me?" _Erik goaded him. "It was the final straw. You went after her because of me. You went to her house, didn't you?" Buquet didn't answer at first, and Erik shouted, "Didn't you? You have never hesitated to boast of your deeds before, and shyness doesn't suit you."

"Yes!" the man spat back. "Yes, I went to her house. I was going to abduct her, but her father heard me sneak in and tried to attack me. He saw my face and became a liability."

"You!" Christine whispered brokenly. "You killed my father!" Burying her face in her hands, she began to sob bitterly.

Erik felt as though his heart was being ripped into shreds. "Christine, It's not your fault –"

"No, Erik. It _is _her fault," their captor interrupted. "It's her fault for letting you into her life. It's her fault that she was foolish enough to come meet me alone. It's her fault that everyone who tries to protect her dies. It's her fault she became your only weakness."

Christine lifted her tear-stained, sorrowful face. "Erik, I'm so –" she began, but the gun was aimed at her in an instant without Buquet so much as glancing at her.

"Hush, darling," Erik bid her gently, keeping his eyes on the man before him. "It will be over soon."

Buquet smiled. "Yes, Christine, it's almost over." He took a step towards Erik. "I'm going to kill your husband, and you will help me rebuild the slave market. You will spend the rest of your life in a dark, tiny room. Your only purpose will be to supply me with pleasure whenever I want it. And, you will hate him for ever laying eyes on you." Another step and he raised his gun so his hand was level with the eyes that were glaring so hatefully at him. "Any last words for him, Christine? A last curse, perhaps? Would you like to tell him now how you wish you'd never met him?"

Christine took a shuddering breath and looked into the eyes of the man she loved above all else. "Erik, I love you," she told him, her voice faltering. "I love you so much." Swallowing, she added, "Please forgive me for what I'm about to do."

"What?" Startled, Buquet turned towards her in his confusion. For one moment, his eyes weren't on Erik.

In that one moment, three bodies collided.

_BANG!_

**Posted on July 18, 2013**


	41. Torn

**300 reviews! Since y'all have been so fabulous and so patient, I'm updating two days earlier than I intended. R&R!  
**

**Chapter Thirty-five: Torn**

Time slowed to a crawl. The boom of the gunshot caused the world to be silent for a few moments. As if in a dream, they froze, unable to move or comprehend.

Then, Christine's body hit the ground, and time was restored.

"Christine!" Erik tried to go to her but was stopped by Buquet's fist connecting with his chin. The gun had been knocked aside in the collision of their bodies. Erik quickly retaliated with a quick jab to his enemy's eye. Buquet howled in pain and tackled him.

Both men crashed to the ground, locked in a bizarre, deadly embrace. They struggled, each trying to gain advantage over the other. Yet, Erik was already weakened. During his battle with Firmin, the large henchman had managed to stab him. The wound was still throbbing and made it hard for him to breathe.

In a lucky move, Buquet punched Erik where the knife would was located. Erik cried with pain and lost his grip on his adversary. He tried to rise and received several blows to his face for his efforts. Buquet's hands clenched his neck. Erik fought but was beginning to lose his vision. Buquet grinned, triumphant. "Monsters don't have happily-ever-afters," he taunted, squeezing harder. Though still clawing at the hands crushing the life out of him, Erik's motions grew ever weaker. He had lost...

_BANG!_

Buquet's smile froze and his eyes widened. His mouth opened to speak but made no sound. Slowly, his grip around Erik's neck relaxed, enabling Erik to free himself. He gasped for air and coughed. Buquet's lips quivered, and then, he fell over onto the ground.

Erik stared at his enemy. His eyes were still open, his expression one of shock. Leaning over, he checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

_Christine. _Panicking, Erik searched for her. She was on the ground, her eyes barely open. The gun was in her hand.

Unable to rise, Erik made his way over to her on his knees. "Christine, my angel..."

"You're hurt," she said, her voice weak.

"Don't worry about me," he assured her. "Where are you wounded?"

"Just... just my shoulder," she answered slowly. Immediately, he removed his shirt and tore off one of the sleeves. After helping her sit up, he bandaged her shoulder as best he could with fingers that trembled. Her little whimpers of pain were enough to make him shake with rage, but he gritted his teeth and concentrated on helping her.

"Erik..." she suddenly said, looking up at him with horrified eyes. "I... Did I kill him?" He only nodded and she moaned. "Oh, God..."

"Shhhh," he bid her, pulling her to him. Her head rested against his collarbone and he felt her tears on his skin. He stroked his fingers through her curls. "He was a monster," he reminded her. "You are not a murderer. You have no reason to feel guilty. You saved my life."

A small smile graced her lips. "I did, didn't I?" she mused aloud. "It's about time I returned the favor." Tiredly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I was so afraid," she confided. "I was so afraid you wouldn't find me, but so afraid you _would. _I was so afraid of what he would do to you, and it would be my fault."

His arms tightened around her. "Don't ever say that, Christine. You aren't to blame for any of this. I left. I should have listened to you." He kissed the top of her head. "Besides, it wouldn't have mattered," he continued. "You are worth any price. Never doubt that. I would rather die protecting you than live without you."

She sat there for a while, quietly considering his words. Then, it struck her. "Erik, how _did _you find me?" she asked.

His fingers laced through hers. He felt the cool metal of her wedding ring and stroked it tenderly. "Remember when I told you to never take off your ring?" She nodded. "I was worried that one day, something would happen. Nadir told me I was being paranoid, but your ring is custom-made. I had a tracking device placed inside of it."

She looked at the simple gold band in wonder. _To think I almost left it... _She shuddered, unable to finish the thought. "I'm glad you did," was her simple reply.

Suddenly, a siren faintly pierced the night air. Startled, Christine looked towards the door. "What –" she began, confused.

"It's the police," Erik said quietly.

She sagged with relief. _We're safe! _Then, she saw Erik's strange expression. He didn't share her relief. He looked... _resigned. _"Erik?" she asked, her worry resurfacing.

"We don't have much time," he interrupt, his voice urgent. "Contact Nadir. I have entrusted sufficient funds to him in order to provide a comfortable life for you. Arrangements have been made for you to return to school. It will be as if none of this ever happened."

"I don't under –" but then, she understood. Erik wouldn't be leaving with her. He'd be leaving as a prisoner. He was going to be arrested, and they were going to be separated forever. "No! Erik, you can't –"

His fingers over her lips stopped her. "It will be alright." His fingers traced her cheek, and tears shimmered in his eyes. "To have loved you, Christine Daaë, has been the only good thing in my miserable existence."

"No!" she yelled. "No, you have to run! You can't go to jail!"

He shook his head sadly. "You're hurt, Christine. I'm not leaving you."

She kissed him softly, lingeringly. She pulled back slightly and placed her forehead against his. "Do you love me?" she whispered. What she was about to do wasn't fair, but it was the only way for her to convince Erik to run.

"You know I do," he quietly answered. "That's why I can't leave you."

"Then run because I love you. I can't live without you. Run. When it's safe, come back for me."

He stared at her, torn. The sirens were nearly outside the building. "Please, Erik," she pleaded, fighting back her own tears.

Finally, he spoke. "I _will _come back for you, Christine," he swore vehemently. "I promise. We _will _be together." He pressed her lips to hers one last time, and then, he was gone.

Moments later, policemen ran into the building. For Christine, everything was a blur. She sat numbly while they searched the building and carried Buquet away.

"Miss Daaë?" She looked up to see a woman in a uniform addressing her. The woman crouched next to her. "Are you hurt?" she questioned.

"My shoulder was shot," she replied.

"We need to get this young woman to the hospital!" the officer called to the others. Then, she turned back to Christine. "Miss Daaë, do you know where the man is who kidnapped you?"

Christine shook her head. "He's gone."

"Gone where?"

"I have no idea." _I have no idea..._

**Posted on July 24, 2013 **


	42. Chosen

**Only one more installment after this! I can't believe it's almost over! I want to send out a few much-deserved thank you's:**

**DreamTheDream, IamthePhantomoftheOpera,StrawberryStoleYourCookie, TarjaRocksMyWinterStorm, PHLover213, EmmanuelleG, RedDeathLvr, PhantomMalevolence, and WillyMoon: You guys have been with this story from the very beginning. All of your encouragement and advice has meant the world to me, and I'll never forget it.  
**

**Kali Rose: For your assistance with character development early on and your honesty. I appreciate it so much. Erik, Christine, Buquet... well, none of them would have been the same without you.**

**The Fading Author: You are absolutely hilarious and one of the most encouraging reviewers I've ever encountered. Thank you for your kind words and for the many plates of cyber cookies.**

**gravity01: Your insight has helped me more than I can ever express. I'm a huge fan of yours, and the fact you took the time to read and review my little story has meant so much. **

**Last but certainly not least, emeraldphan: All of you owe this girl a giant thank you! I might never have finished this story without her gentle prodding! You are my biggest supporter. Thank you for all of your counsel and help. Your friendship is a true blessing.  
**

**All of you are the best supporters an author can have, and I'm thankful for each and every one of you. Now, without further ado: the (almost) final chapter!  
**

**Chapter Thirty-six: Chosen  
**

_**Christine**_

The authorities were persistent. They searched everywhere for Erik. Of course, their searches yielded no results, frustrating them to no end. I answered the same questions patiently over and over again. I think the woman officer who had first spoken to me suspected I was hiding things from them, but since she had no proof, there was nothing she could do.

Then, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, the police slowly lost interest. The trail became cold, and other, new cases took precedence. The name "Christine Daaë" eventually faded from their minds. Finally, the files were all put away. The case was closed.

Erik was right; everything was in order for me. I met with Nadir and he helped me re-enroll in school. Strangely enough, not a word was said about the time I'd missed and I started classes that fall as a sophomore even though I hadn't completed my freshman year.

Nadir and I decided it would be best that I return to Erik's house. Mary still cooked and kept house for me and never reprimanded me for stealing her car (it was never recovered). I invited Meg to live with me and we rode to class together every morning.

We went to see Raoul once. He was hospitalized for a long time. He didn't know us, and since his family didn't know us either, they couldn't help him remember us. His head injury destroyed his memory. He remembered his family and much of his childhood, but Meg and I were strangers to him. We told him we were some of his classmates. He laughed often and smiled easily, just as he used to before my life derailed his. I was glad his family was nearby to help him recover. I wouldn't have to worry about him that way. He was in good hands.

"How awful," Meg remarked as we left.

"I think it's better this way," I replied. "He can start over and live his life the way he should. It'll be much easier if my name holds no meaning for him, especially when..." My voice trailed off but Meg knew what I was going to say.

"It'll be easier for him when you disappear," she finished for me. I nodded. I had told Meg absolutely everything. She knew I was waiting for Erik to fetch me. She and Nadir were the only people from this life who knew, and they were the only people who would continue to know me. I was sorry Raoul had lost so much of his memory, but at least there was no danger of him trying to find me.

"Any word?" Meg wanted to know.

"Not yet," I said softly, twisting the solid gold band around my finger, a nervous habit. She noticed and added, "He'll come back as soon as he can, Christine. That man is crazy about you."

"I know," I sighed. _If only he would hurry..._

After being the single most important part of my life, him being torn from my side left me feeling lost. There was a huge vacancy that was impossible to ignore. Nearly a year had passed since that fateful night he sat at my table, a mysterious figure who slowly took possession of my heart. Living in our house was both a comfort and a curse. I could hardly stand to walk through the music room. Too many memories lived there, memories that brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. But, when I needed to be alone, I would venture into the woods and sit in the gazebo. He didn't feel so far away there, and the memories that were usually so painful brought a smile to my face.

Though it wasn't financially necessary, I soon returned to my job as a waitress. The employers were very kind and understanding. I worked for my own sake. Too many hours were spent in silence at home and left me with too much time to think. I needed to keep my mind occupied in order to avoid dwelling in my sadness. He would come for me, after all. He promised...

o0o

It was the anniversary of the night we met. After a long and stressful Saturday dinner shift, Hannah and I were preparing to close. I was wiping down tables when she approached me. "My section is wiped down and everything at the bar is put away," she informed me. "I'm going to make sure everything in the kitchen is in order and put away the sauces. I'll be back in about five minutes, hopefully."

"Alright," I replied. I continued to wipe the tables until I reached _the _table, the one where we sat together. I quickly swiped the towel over the tabletop and almost didn't see it on the bench in the exact spot where he sat. Stunned, I set the towel down and picked up the perfect red rose with the thorns cut from its stem.

As I ran my fingers over the velvety petals, I heard a voice behind me. "Question number two: your favorite flowers are roses."

Slowly, almost fearfully, I turned. There, standing before me, was Erik.

"Erik..." I whispered. Hesitantly, I lifted my hand to touch his cheek, praying I wasn't dreaming. He lifted his hand to cover mine. "I'm here, angel," he assured me. Then, his arms wrapped around me and he kissed me. I felt the porcelain of his mask against my cheek, and I smiled. "You really are here," I murmured as we pulled apart.

"We don't have much time," he told me. "Hannah will find a way to escape the broom closet soon."

I rolled my eyes. "You didn't..."

His trademark smirk lit his face. "Imagine how foolish she'll feel when she discovers she only had to push the doorknob." As we laughed, he took my hands in his. "But, before we go, I have a request."

"Anything," I promised, my voice wavering as joy overtook me.

"Dance with me."

Music began to play. He led me to the small stage and pulled me close. We danced slowly, holding each other close.

After a while, he spoke. "I came here to give you a choice." I raised my head questioningly but allowed him to finish. "We won't be safe here. We'll have to leave, and I don't know if we can ever return. I'm a fugitive, Christine. We might not ever be able to settle down. If you leave with me, it's forever. Or, I can disappear. Your life will continue and you will be completely independent. I won't haunt you. You can have a normal life." His eyes bore into mine, trying to gauge my thoughts. "It's your choice, Christine," he finally said. "Whatever you want, I will do."

I considered my life a year ago. I remembered the loneliness, the fear, and the insecurity. I thought of Raoul. With a stab of pain, I thought of my father. I thought of everything I'd had before any of this had happened.

But, then, I thought of Erik. I thought of the tears, the fights, the struggles, and the triumphs. I thought of us singing together, the times he had rescued me, our wedding day. I thought of the person he'd become by loving me, and I thought of the person I'd become by loving him.

And, he was allowing me to make the choice. He was letting me decide how I wanted to live my life, with or without him. No force, no threats, no manipulations. Just his golden eyes pleading with me to start over with him.

A huge smile appeared on my face, and I said the words he had been longing to hear for so long. "I choose you, Erik."

"Forever, Christine?" Even then, his arms tightened around me, afraid to let me go.

"Please," was my answer before leaning in to kiss him again. Right before our lips touched, I added, "I want to be wherever you are."

So, we disappeared into the shadows, but we were no longer alone. At long last, we had found each other and we were _together._

Forever.

o0o

_Hannah rushed into the empty dining room. "Christine! Christine, where are you?" she shouted frantically. Music was playing over the speakers, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. She called the police, but it was too late._

_She was gone. And, search though they may, all they ever found was a blood-red rose._

**Posted on July 29, 2013**


	43. Finale: Together

**This is it, guys... the final chapter. **

**O.o *goes to grab tissue***

**Finale: Together**

_Three years later_

I stared out into the night. Though the hour was late, the city lights still burned. Milan never truly sleeps, just like Erik, who was up late composing again.

Life hadn't been easy. Erik was a wanted fugitive. We were constantly being pursued, only staying in one place for a few months at a time. He did his best to make it up to me, though, by taking me to see whatever wonders were nearby: a famous opera house, an art exhibit, a castle... I saw things I'd heard of but never thought I would see with my own eyes.

My friendship with Meg remained intact, thanks in large to Nadir. We constantly e-mailed back and forth, and Erik even flew her out to surprise me a few times. And, Nadir was always dropping in to see us. He claimed he missed us, but we all knew he was really making sure Erik was behaving himself. Some things never change.

A gust of wind blew over me, causing me to shiver. A pair of arms wrapped around me. "You shouldn't be outside, dear," Erik's soft voice said in my ear.

"It's such a beautiful night," I replied, leaning against him. "This is truly a wondrous place."

"It is," he agreed, his head bending to rest on top of mine. We stood in peaceful silence, listening to the gentle wind. Suddenly, he asked, "Christine... are you happy?"

He asked this often. I would be lying if I said I didn't long for a place to settle down. He felt guilty; I could sense it. I think that's why he tried so hard to keep me occupied. And, while I was weary of traveling, I never considered leaving him. Erik _was _my home, and I would rather be globetrotting with him than live in a palace without him.

Besides, perhaps we _could _settle down someday. We began gradually staying in each city longer. This was our seventh month in our Milanese apartment, and there were still no signs of danger. Of course, that could change in an instant, but I was hopeful for the future.

"I'm happy as long as I'm with you," I answered truthfully, earning a gentle squeeze from him. Then, he swept me into his arms. I squealed with surprise but wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me inside. "Time for bed," he announced. He easily carried me to the bedroom and tucked me in before climbing in beside me. His arms cradled me, an assurance that he would always protect me. His hands traveled to my swelling abdomen and paused. I placed my hands over his. "You are going to be a wonderful father," I told him lovingly.

"I only hope our child looks like you," he said somewhat fearfully. I sighed. Erik hadn't reacted as I'd hoped when I informed him of my pregnancy. He was shocked first but horrified second. Our child was five months along, but he was still uneasy. I kissed his forearm tenderly. "I don't mind if our child looks like his father," I assured him. A small kick of agreement against my stomach made us both laugh, clearly making Erik forget his apprehensions as he relaxed.

"I love you," he whispered in my ear, and I smiled. We are going to be alright. We undoubtedly have many miles ahead of us and we don't know what tomorrow has in store... but we do have each other. My life is definitely beyond even what my wildest dreams could conjure, but I wouldn't trade my husband and our little one for anything in the world.

The road ahead of us might be long and rough, but our love can conquer any obstacle. We are together and that's all that matters. It's not the happily-ever-after we imagined, but we're on our way there.

_End._

**Posted on August 1, 2013 **

I was searching  
You were on a mission  
Then our hearts combined like  
A neutron star collision

I have nothing left to lose  
You took your time to choose  
Then we told each other  
With no trace of fear that...

Our love would be forever  
And if we die  
We die together  
And lie, I said never  
'Cause our love would be forever

The world is broken  
Halos fail to glisten  
You try to make a difference  
But no one wants to listen

Hail, the preachers, fake and proud  
Their doctrines will be cloud  
Then they'll dissipate  
Like snowflakes in an ocean

Love is forever  
And we'll die, we'll die together  
And lie, I say never  
'Cause our love could be forever

Now I've got nothing left to lose  
You take your time to choose  
I can tell you now without a trace of fear

That my love will be forever  
And we'll die we'll die together  
Lie, I will never  
'Cause our love will be forever

"Neutron Star Collision" by Muse


End file.
